Little Talks
by underblueskies
Summary: If Cam had been saved, could his life have been rebuilt? Could the people affected have been saved, even knowing that he didn't want to be alive?
1. Prologue

**Prologue: **_Some days I can't even trust myself._

Campbell felt his lips quivering as he paced in front of the green house, hands clenched in fists at his side. Tears slipped down his face, pausing at the base of his jaw before falling. His mind was spiraling out of control, but it was a familiar feeling for him. This sense of insanity was not uncommon for him, and sometimes – most times – Cam felt like that dark part of his mind was going to take over.

Today would be that day, because he was just giving up.

He had been pacing in front of the green house for half an hour, looking around and then looking into the small shed-like building. It had been that long since his encounter with Zig, when the younger boy had given Cam a sad dose of reality… _"You're a psycho_." Could he really be mad at the words? Zig was right. Cam wasn't okay, he could never be okay, or at least that's what it felt like. No, Cam wasn't mad at Zig anymore. All of his emotions were focused on the pure hatred that burned inside for his own self, which bubbled up and threatened to consume him altogether. The only other emotions he could identify through the contempt for himself were guilt and fear, both reserved for the only people who meant anything to him: his family, Maya.

It was like the perfect blonde knew that she was needed. Cam's phone vibrated his pocket. He loosened his hands and clenched his jaw, slowly pulling out his phone and unlocking it. _Where are you cheesy_– the text itself was strung together, like she had just typed it out in a hurry, probably in between looking around the schoolyard for him. Cam tried to laugh, but he choked – another feeling familiar to him. His chest tightened with a deep ache in the center, tugging right at his heart. He was going to let her down again, like he had done before when he couldn't kiss her, when he couldn't express how much she meant to him, when he couldn't control his jealousy and the anger that swelled inside. In those seconds that he stared down at the message, he re-thought everything. He swore it – swore that he really did consider going to her and embracing her and forgetting it all for another day…

But Cam wasn't right in the head. He hadn't been for a long time. And he couldn't ask Maya to burden that.

_I'm not coming. Sorry. It's over._

If a heart really could break, Cam's did at that moment. He choked again, catching a whimper in his throat and fighting it back. He fought the urge to walk out from behind the shadow of the greenhouse, to look out and find Maya with his eyes, to watch for her reaction to his text. She wouldn't know what it truly meant. To her it was their relationship; to him it was his life. Maybe she would cry when she read his message. His heart ached. He looked up at the sky for one last time, silently asking God that if he could, please help him. He didn't get a reply – maybe he didn't wait long enough, because the next thing he knew, Cam was standing in the greenhouse with an ice skate in hand.

The blade on his skate glistened brighter than it had before, although he had never really stopped to stare at the skate's shine. He rolled up the sleeves on his hoodie to reveal his arms' flesh, but all he could do after that was stare at the sharp edges. He turned the skate back and forth in his hands for a minute, eventually lowering himself to sit on a crate. With his elbows rested against his knees, he stared at the blade like he was staring at a question, but the more he questioned his decision, the more he realized that this wasn't a choice. His life had never been a choice, it had been a burden. Was he selfish to have ever expected anyone to carry his weight? Was he selfish to expect everyone to pick up the pieces? By the time he was finished processing these thoughts, Cam's face was streaming with tears again.

Quietly and effortlessly, Campbell pressed the pointed edge of the blade at the top of his wrist and dragged the blade. He repeated this multiple times, each of the horizontal lines long and deep. As he moved up his arm, cutting deep into his skin, the lines changed. They became more jagged, more angry, and Cam lost himself. He gripped the base of his skate and started hacking into his arm, puncturing wounds into his flesh and finally crying out. Cam coughed and clenched his lips shut, finally stopping to stare at the mess he had made: lines and lines of pouring blood at the top of his arm met by broken stabs of anger closer to the bend of his elbow. His entire arm was red. The ground around him was flushed with crimson, and in the quickness of his sorrow, he had splattered blood on his face.

Everything began to spin all at once. Cam's head became light and his heart raced as he dropped the skate from his bloody hand, unable to begin work on his other arm. His entire body began to shake with each broken sob, no more tears falling but his body trembling beneath the weight of what he had just done. What he felt inside wasn't regret, but it wasn't relief either. It was simple failure. He had fought this entire time just to bleed out in a place that wasn't his home, a place so far away from his home – his family.

His family. They were going to be so upset. He wanted to hug his mom one last time, tell his siblings not to give up, ask his dad to not to be disappointed. For a minute he regretted not calling his family before he had made this decision, but in his weakening state he decided that it was better this way. They wouldn't be haunted with their words being the last thing he heard.

Campbell slid off of the crate and uneasily fell to the floor, unable to focus on anything but what was going on in his mind because of the sinking physical pain all around him. The cuts and gashes on his arms stung with a vibrant resonance, but he also felt sick, drained. His physical state finally matched his mental state. _Is this what's it like to die? _Some kind of calm was starting to surround him, but he didn't know if it was the end of his life coming or just the blood he kept losing. He leaned his head against the farthest wall in the green house, staring up at the ceiling and what small piece of sky he could see.

He could hear Maya's laughter even though he knew she wasn't really there. Almost smiling, he closed his eyes and let everything become nothing.

* * *

**author's note:** I'm in love with Cam, so that was hard to write, but I hope you enjoyed. I know it may not seem like a lot, but that was just the introduction I felt needed to happen to get things going. Cam is alive in this. I just really felt like I needed to write what could have happened if he had made it. Leave me a review so I know if it's enjoyed!


	2. Missing Hoot

**Chapter One: **_You've gone, gone, gone away – I watched you disappear._

Maya had fallen asleep with her phone in her hand, hoping that eventually Cam would call her back. The vibration and noise would wake her, he would take it all back, and everything would okay again – like the night before, when she'd been in his arms and introduced him to Hoot.

But it wasn't her phone or Cam that woke Maya up.

She slowly pulled out of unconsciousness, blinking several times to gather her surroundings. She was curled up in a tight ball on top of her bed with her clothes still completely on. She hadn't even bothered to crawl under the covers once she got home from class. She hadn't heard from Cam throughout the rest of that day. As soon as she woke up she loosened her grip on her phone, her hand aching from the tight hold she'd had on it throughout her slumber. When her mind caught up with the events that had led up to that moment, Maya fumbled to unlock her phone. It was only 8 o'clock, so she had slept for several hours. There was nothing from Cam. No missed calls, no text messages. As she stared at what wasn't there, her stomach was dropping and her heart ached. She didn't know how to process the pain that was inside, but she knew that it was there and that it was the worst she had felt. She'd never felt so uneasy in her fourteen years of life.

In the midst of her confusion she realized that the light from her phone was casting a shadow on something. She turned her phone to guide the light in front of her and almost screamed.

"Jesus, Katie!" Maya dropped her phone and shot up on her bed. Her sister was kneeling down on her knees beside Maya's bed, just staring at her with a look that Maya couldn't explain. Katie's mouth was agape as though she were speechless. The blonde fumbled to reach for the cord on her desk lamp, eventually pulling it and almost falling in the process. Scrambling to sit up on her legs, she just stared back at Katie, moving her head to side. Her expression silently asked Katie to explain.

"Maya, I…" Katie swallowed. She moved closer to rest her arms on the bed. "I didn't know if I should wake you up or not," she said slowly, her voice shaking.

All Maya could do was stare at her sister. "Katie, you were just sitting by my bed in the dark. How long were you –" Maya's voice caught in her throat as she began to search Katie's face. The brunette's lips were closed tightly together, eyebrows furrowed. Something was wrong. "What is it, Katie?"

No reply.

"Where are Mom and Dad?!" Maya almost shouted, fearing the worst of her parents from Katie's fearful stare. Maya scrambled to get to her feet, almost tripping over Katie's leaning body as she did so. She was almost to the hall when she felt Katie grasp her arm.

"No, Maya, no," Katie was saying, but Maya was harshly trying to pull away from her sister's hold, twisting her arm to get out of her grasp. Katie gripped onto Maya's shoulders and tried to coax her back into her room, back to her bed, to just sit down, but Maya had already caught on that something wasn't right and was in a panic.

"Just tell me what it is, Katie!" Maya yelled desperately, pleading her sister with her bright eyes, but she wrestled against Katie's hold to no success. "Is it mom? Is it dad?" She didn't understand why her sister would just stare at her in the dark if her parents were hurt or what could've happened to them while they were out of town, but she knew something was bad. It took a lot to shake Katie.

"It's CAM!" Katie finally shouted, releasing her grip on Maya's arms. Unable to recover and still fighting her hold when Katie let her go, Maya simply stumbled backwards and fell into the wall. The crash shook her, but she just stared at Katie. She suddenly felt the entire space around them spinning out of control.

"What do you– Cam what? What's wrong with Cam?"

Katie's shoulders dropped as she sighed. She stepped back, placing her weight on her back foot. "I went to the green house after school to try and find Jake, I… I wanted to talk to him and.." Katie stopped, realizing this wasn't what her sister wanted to hear. "I went in and Cam was there, he had–"

"What, Katie?!" Maya yelled. She lowered her voice and said more calmly, "He did what?"

Katie just stared again, her mouth open but words not coming out.

Maya stepped forward to her sister and stared up into Katie's sad face. "Katie, what did he do?"

"He hurt himself, Maya," Katie whispered, sounding sad and distraught.

The fragile blonde fell back again, her eyes widening. Maya looked past Katie, into her room, at her phone on the bed – the empty phone with nothing from Cam, except a video from that morning and text after text where she pleaded for him to explain himself. Some small part of was relieved that he hadn't just been ignoring, but just as quickly as that thought came, the magnitude of the situation pressed down on Maya like a giant anchor. She didn't have to ask what Katie meant or question the meaning behind Katie's sad eyes anymore because she already knew. And she immediately felt responsible.

"He was unconscious. I just– I called 911 and they took him away."

"No…" Maya's voice was a quiet, partial cry as she shook her head. The only other noise she could manage was a small whimper, a noise of confusion and disbelief as she dropped her eyes to the ground. She watched as Katie's legs advanced towards her. She knew Katie's arms were coming before she felt them wrap around her. Maya's head fit perfectly in the space there by Katie's neck. The elder sister pulled her young counterpart into a deep squeeze. Katie didn't say anything else for a long time, but after several long moments of Maya frozen in her grip, she felt tears wetting the back of her blouse and shoulder where Katie's chin was rested.

Katie was weeping for Cam, and all Maya could do was be still.

Feeling nauseous and somewhat disgusted with herself, Maya pushed Katie off of her. Katie's eyes looked even more hurt and worried now, but Maya ignored it. "What did he do?" she asked.

"I just told you that– "

"No, Katie! What did he _do_?" Maya asked again, raising her eyebrows in emphasis.

Katie's face drained of color. Maya could see her throat move as she swallowed slowly, and the brunette abruptly ended eye contact with her sister for a moment. Katie was shaking her head when she looked back at Maya, silently telling her that she shouldn't know the answer.

"Katie," Maya pressed, her voice breaking. But she already knew she wouldn't get an answer. After a moment of silence, Maya pursed her lips and let out a deep breath through her nose. She switched back and forth between the weight on both of her feet for a minute as though wondering what to do with herself. She felt Katie's eyes on her as she finally stepped out from Katie's shadow, moving down the hall and stopping every few seconds to turn around and look at Katie.

Nothing made sense in Maya's head. She'd never had to death with this, never had to process something so heavy. The biggest problem she had at the beginning of the year was not having enough friends or being better at music than her classmates or Zig choosing Tori… Remembering Zig, a wave of guilt rushed over her and she suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe. Had she been too nice to him? Should she had never taken up for him in Simpson's office? Was this her fault for ever questioning Cam?

"_You went crazy."_

She had hurt him, and now he had hurt himself.

Maya let out a shaky breathe as the wave of guilt submerged her. She looked up at Katie again, who was just staring at her with sympathetic eyes. Katie had never been perfect, but she always wanted to see her sister happy. Maya realized that Katie was worried about Maya now, but Maya had no words. All she could think was that she couldn't do this and that wasn't what Katie wanted to hear. So Maya just stared back with pleading eyes that asked Katie to help her, because she didn't dare ask for help outloud.

Whether or not Katie understood how desperate her sister was for an immediate answer was unclear, but finally Katie spoke again. "Just tell me what you're feeling, Maya." As she spoke, she advanced towards her sister in the hall to try and console her again, but she had already said the wrong thing. Maya bit deep into her lip and almost grinned, in disbelief that Katie expected her to form her feelings into words. She couldn't even form her feelings into legitimate thoughts. She just felt sick.

Maya actually laughed, but it was one of partial disgust and frustration. "You know what, Katie? No, just no. I'm not talking about anything right now." She didn't give Katie a chance to respond before she spun around on her heel and was out of the hall, moving through the living room and towards the kitchen, where their garage door was connected.

"Where are you going?" Katie called, still frozen in the hall. "Maya!"

Maya ignored her and kicked a throw pillow out of her way as she fled to the kitchen, before finally hearing Katie's footsteps in hot pursuit.

"Maya! Maya, stop!" begged Katie, and Maya could tell that her sister was almost in tears again.

Realizing that she had no idea where she was going, Maya stopped abruptly at the kitchen door and slowly turned around. Katie was already standing there. Worry and confusion were in the older girl's eyes as she stared at Maya, obviously feeling some sort of pity, too. It was at that moment that Maya realized her sister didn't know what to do either. There was nothing that could be done.

The two girls stood in the kitchen, still and silent for what seemed like an eternity. Katie, sad and sympathetic towards her little sister's situation; and Maya, beside herself and too young to deal with this. They were probably quite a sight to see, a tragic stand-off with no happy ending in sight. In the silence, Maya was forced to contemplate the thoughts in her mind.

"_I'm not some loser who hurts himself, Maya."_

Maya felt her heart stop. She remembered his face, remembered her own disbelief, and she remembered letting it go, but she didn't remember ever feeling like it would end like this. She thought of Cam's misguiding smile and felt the numb set in. She couldn't feel anything anymore except the tingling of her fingertips, surely longing to touch his face again.

Katie took a deep breath and then sat down at the kitchen table, running a hand through her hair. She stared at the table for a minute before she finally looked up at Maya. "He's in the hospital now," she said gently, obviously trying to diffuse the situation. She pushed out the chair next to her as an offering.

_Too bad, Katie. You don't drop an atomic bomb and then try to save the people who exploded._

Maya slowly lowered herself to the chair. She placed her hands atop the table and fiddled with them, looking at that rather than at Katie. She had no words for where Campbell was right now, so she hoped that Katie didn't expect her to say anything.

"I had to wait for the ambulance, and then I had to wait for Simpson to come..."

"Simpson?" Maya mumbled, looking up at Katie from under eyelashes. If Simpson was already aware, there was no doubt that the whole school would be tomorrow, too. They would have to "address it" or something. Her sister only nodded. Maya looked back now, a lump in her throat forming as she realized that Cam was now something to "address" and no longer just an actual person. Her person.

All she felt were those same sad eyes on her until Katie reached out and placed her hand over Maya's, stopping her hands from moving. Maya quickly looked up and met Katie's gaze. She licked her lips for a moment as though trying to put her words carefully together, and finally she just said, "Maya, you just… Do you have anything at all to say?"

_Why would he do that? Is it my fault? Is it anyone's fault? Is it his fault? Do I have the right to be mad?_

Katie seemed hopeful that this approach would warrant a better reaction from Maya. She was wrong. The fourteen year old only shook her head and dropped her eyes again, biting hard into her bottom lip. She felt moisture at the corners of her eyes like she was going to cry, but she couldn't. She didn't know what was wrong with her, she just knew she could not cry.

In response, Katie only leaned back in defeat. "I'll talk to Mom and Dad when they call tonight, alright?"

Maya nodded solemnly and remained still in her seat. The girls sat there for a little bit longer before Katie finally moved her hand off of Maya's hand, a sign that she would let Maya go. Maya rose to her feet and tried to compose herself. Her legs were shaky as she walked back through the living room. She paused to glance at her cello and considered just playing, but there was nothing inside of her that could make anything beautiful right now, music or otherwise.

She found herself back in her room in the same position where she had been before – curled up in a ball on top of her sheets, clinging to her phone because there was nothing else to hold onto now. As she lay in her bed and stared into the darkness, she realized that she was angry, but whether or not she was mad at herself or at Cam remained to be determined. Maybe she was pissed at them both.

Slowly and unsurely, she unlocked her phone and stared at Cam's contact. It was at least five minutes before she finally clicked the call button and brought the phone to her ears. It was loud – the distant ringing was sadder now, empty. When his voicemail came on she quickly hung up, terrified to hear his voice. As rage and heartache moved through her, she sat up long enough to chunk her phone across the room. It hit a pile of clothes, lighting up pink shirts and blue jeans until the light went out.

Maya laid there for hours, just thinking about how that distant ringing wasn't just on the phone. It was inside of her. And she wished that she had Hoot.

* * *

**author's note:** Aw, Maya! I spent a lot of time wondering how she'd react to an attempt rather than the actual death, and I feel this is pretty accurate. Also, I know that it was originally said that Cam killed himself sometime in the middle of night, but I had to have it be earlier for the whole thing to work and for him to be saved. Obviously I'm not following canon here, but yeah. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and I hope you review again!


	3. Lucy

**Chapter Two: **_There's an old voice in my head that's holding me back._

What most people forget about hospitals is that they take you there to get better, but most of the time you end up feeling worse. That was what Campbell Saunders had been thinking the entire time he had been conscious in the hospital bed, which granted wasn't very long, but it was long enough to know that everything was over. Pretending everything was okay, fooling his family, his time playing hockey with the Ice Hounds, and even his time with Maya. It was all over, except for his life, and his life was all that he was trying to end, but…. He had ended it. All those things made up the catalyst that was his life, and now all that he had was his existence. He could still _feel _everything. It still hurt.

Cam had briefly slipped into consciousness when he was being rushed into the emergency room. He remembered the bright lights – so bright that they burned – and he remembered so many people around him, so many bodies moving that they sounded like the buzzing of bees at their hive. These people in white coats and scrubs were all talking, yelling things. _"Campbell? Campbell, can you hear me? Are you with us again, Campbell?" _Cam couldn't remember if he had offered up any form of audible confirmation, but a gentle voice was over him and saying, _"You're going to be alright, son."_

Everything had gone black again after that. When he had come to again, he was in a room with white walls and a silver sink in the corner, accompanied by a bed where he lay that had white sheets. The buzzing was gone and replaced with the noises of the machines hooked up to him. He hadn't fully opened his eyes when he woke up, but he knew the room was full of light – and not the kind from came from the fluorescents overheard in the ER. It was sunlight. But, that seemed to burn too.

He had lain so still in his hospital bed that it took the doctors a while to realize that he was actually awake. At least six hours had to have passed before a nurse even noticed that he was receptive and fully aware of his surroundings. Cam heard her quick breath – you know, that kind you make when you discover something amazing, then he heard her walk away, and then he heard someone else come in.

"Campbell?" It was the same gentle voice that had tried to comfort him when he'd awoken briefly the first time. The boy's head was turned away from the door, his eyes small slits as he stared at the sunlight through the partially opened curtains. Cam didn't answer. After a few more moments of the silence, that same gentle voice came back. "He's not ready yet," it said. It was quieter this time, obviously not directed at him. It was probably to the nurse. After that, Cam heard two sets of feet shuffle out.

More time collapsed around him. Shortly after the doctor left he realized that his wrists were strapped to the bed. The cuffs were tight, and he felt claustrophobic, but couldn't form the words to ask for them to be loosened or even removed. What exactly did they think he'd do to himself in the middle of a hospital? He'd already proven that he was a failure, specifically at trying to end his own suffering.

He didn't look around much, but he could hear the ticking of the clock in the room, which was conveniently placed beside a television that was not on. Every now and then he could hear people shuffling by and felt eyes on him, eyes watching him through the glass observation.

It was like he was a caged animal, and everyone was waiting for him to try and break free.

Thousands of ticks passed on the clock. Cam was staring out the distant window again, although the sun was starting to set. His eyes were locked on the faded orange sky in a fierce desperation and as the moments passed, he wished more and more that he were somewhere above those clouds.

But as he stared at the fading sun, he heard footsteps and knew that someone was at his door, staring at him. This time the feeling of being watched didn't go away like it had all day. After several moments of feeling that there was an intent set of eyes on him, the boy slowly turned his eyes and looked on with exhausted eyes. He immediately wished he hadn't, as the sight before him made his chest collapse.

"Mom?" he managed, choking on the three letter word.

Cam's mother was staring at him with tired brown eyes, lips trembling as she stared on. Circles underneath those brown eyes indicated that she had been up for some time. Her purse sat on her shoulder ungracefully, one strap falling already. Her skin was pale, cheeks colorless, smudges of old mascara in the crevices of her eyes. She looked so fragile, so perplexed, so _broken_. As stupid as it may have seemed, Cam hadn't even considered anyone coming. This entire time he had been in his own silent hell on the hospital bed, completely void of any notion that he'd ever been found again.

He had felt lost. He had felt like this was where he was to be dropped off, and no one would ever know of him again. But as he stared into his mother's empty face, it was like he suddenly remembered what he was and who belonged to. He belonged to her.

Tears pooled in the woman's eyes. She stepped forward slowly into the room, looking desperate to keep her composure, but the closer she came to him the more she faltered, and it was at the last few steps closer to him that she all but collapsed and threw herself over him like a mother does her young, a contained cry erupting from her lips. Her arms encircled his neck and she pulled him tightly to her, sobs shaking Cam and the entire bed. She was pulling on the IV that was deep in the crook of his arm but he didn't care. He lay there limp, unable to hug her back with his arms secured tightly at his side. He felt his mother's tears soaking the nape of his neck as she cried mournfully. Her cries were distorted and loud, so loud that passing nurses and attendees had to pause to look on with sad eyes. She cried so hard that her entire body shook above him. Her cries were the most horrific and painful noise he had ever heard in his life. In between her wails she spoke something inaudible.

"Mom..." he said softly, turning his head slightly towards where her head lay on his shoulder, but her face was buried, making her voice too muffled to hear. "Mom?" His voice was desperate, pained. He just needed to her stop. She had to stop. The pain he had felt earlier was amplified and crippling. Emotions swelled up wildly inside of him, each fighting for who would take control. He had begun to cry himself without knowing. There was no sobbing from him, no noise, just pools of tears that spilled down his cheeks and found their way past his chin. He turned his eyes back up to the sky and cursed himself.

Mrs. Saunders pulled away suddenly and looked at him. There was desperation in her eyes, a lost sort of aching that made him want to cringe. "I love you," she said. Three simple words. Three words, eight letters, and they were enough to make him want to slit his own throat. As he lay there staring up at her face, that's all he could think about. He should've gone for his throat instead of his wrists.

What kind of worthless child makes his mother cry like that?

"Mom, I'm okay," Cam lied feebly.

Her eyes replied that she didn't believe him, but she only pulled her arms back and began to wipe at her face. No matter how much she rubbed at the tears, it still looked like her face was never completely dry. She wore the damage across her face like she wore her make-up, unpensioning of it and accepting it seemed, simply trying to rub the rest of the tears from her eyes. The brown in her eyes was complimented by red veins now, and the circles beneath them were thick and puffy from the sobs.

As Cam watched her fumble to remove the evidence of her breakdown, he scoffed at himself for hurting her again. If he had just done it right, there would be no burden for her to shoulder like she was now, no mess to come and clean up. A funeral would've been the last thing to comprehend of Campbell Saunders, _if he had just done it right_. The echo of his own short-comings was too unsettling for him.

A timid knock on the door caused them both to look up. His mother's neck snapped quickly around as she appeared more surprised and stirred than she should have been, further emphasizing her anxious state. Cam physically cringed at the sight of his mother so shaken by him. A woman in a white lab coat smiled at each of them attentively, a clipboard in her hand. She had dark blonde hair and soft eyes – she was probably his mom's age, but with a smaller frame. He presumed her to be his doctor, and the gentle voice he'd heard upon awaking both times. This assumption proved to be right.

"Hi, Campbell," the blonde said with a smile. She nodded to Cam's mother. "Mrs. Saunders, nice to meet you both. I'll be helping you during your time here, Campbell. I'm a psychiatrist here."

Cam glanced over at his mom. She was nodding weakly, still fumbling to rub the damp tears off of her face. His heart sank as he watched her. He'd never seen her so shaken, not even when he and Justin had injuries or when his little fell into the pool before she could swim so many summers ago. His mother had always been this perfect ray of light, she always knew what to say or do – that's what a mother was, right? In all reality, Mrs. Saunders was the universal sports mom with a permanent smile, one that Cam had never known to be fake. She was just happy, and it was for this reason that Cam never understood how he had come to be so unhappy.

He abruptly turned his attention back to the doctor when he realized she had moved closer and was standing beside him, in between his mother and the source of Cam's IV – which he had realized during his mother's embrace, was a pint of blood hanging from a hook. That would make sense, right? He could still remember the blood on the ground at the green house… The bag was half empty, but the sight still made his stomach churn.

"Mrs. Saunders?" The doctor used her free hand to extend to Cam's mom.

His mother lifted her own hand, forcing a smile. "Sadie," she replied, shaking the doctor's hand.

The doctor nodded and used the pen in her hand to point at the bandages encasing Cam's cut arm. "May I?" she asked calmly. Her smile was gone, but she still looked pleasant enough. Her eyes held an emotion that Cam was unfamiliar with, one that he couldn't quite name. It made him anxious. He glanced at the name on her jacket, which simply read: DR. REID, PSYCHATRIC MEDICINE. The writing confirmed every fear that Cam had about himself up to this point. He was crazy. But he nodded to her none the less, dropping his gaze as he did. He felt his mother let go of his hand and rise to her feet as the doctor sat down her objects, although he was partially thankful for that. Holding his mom's hand while chained to this bed was more just awkward, it felt degrading. She stepped back from the bed and stood center from the door, just watching.

Dr. Reid reached down and gently removing the strap on his left arm, the one he had assaulted, and lifted it. She turned it over and began removing the thick layer of bandage. As the moved further and further along the layers, blood began to appear, small spots eventually leading to giant puddles where the blood soaked through his stitches. Cam made very certain not to make look in his mother's direction or even at the doctor's face as his arm was slowly revealed, but a broken whimper passed through Sadie's throat and Cam visibly winced like it was a slap in the face.

"Sadie, you can step out if you need to." Cam heard Dr. Reid speak to his mother, her voice tender and understanding. Sadie must have shaken her head because he didn't hear or see any movement.

The soft-spoken doctor continued her work quietly, turning his arm upwards so that his injuries were revealed. Cam fought this without realizing it, tugging against Dr. Reid's gentle pull. He briefly met her gaze when he realized what he was doing and stopped fighting. She lowered herself to the chair where his mother had once been sitting and ran a cautious hand over each of the incisions with her gloved hand. Cam shifted his eyes to look at them, trying to keep his face expressionless. But it was like his stomach was being ripped out and there was nothing there to ease the nausea. He'd once been comforted by his own pain and self-inflicted wounds, but the sight of what he had done was appalling. Some of the injuries were long, deep lines and others were gruesome pieces of hurt flesh where he had simply bashed the blade in and out with no rhyme or reason. He looked away, fearing he would be sick if he stared any longer. His psychiatrist simply tilted his arm the side and looked thoughtfully at the injuries, her face completely reproached of any emotion. _She does this all day_, he thought to himself.

After what felt like a painfully long time for Cam, Dr. Reid let go of his arm and stood up. She walked towards the sink where a tray of bandages and sutures sat. She silently retrieved them and returned to re-bandage the painful sight on Cam's flesh.

"We have to discuss some options here, Campbell," said Dr. Reid in a low voice. She began to wrap the bandage around Cam's arm. He finally turned to look in her direction, catching sight of his mom in the process. Sadie had a hand over her mouth as she stared motionless at the scene before her. Her overall facial expressions were void of any emotion, but her eyes were empty and sullen. That familiar ache in Cam's heart rose to the surface and he abruptly focused his on Dr. Reid, but said nothing. "You'll have to remain here on a 72 psychiatric hold. You'll be observed. I want to the opportunity to talk to you." She was speaking louder than before and very coherently, most likely speaking to Mrs. Saunders as well, though her eyes remained fixed on Cam's face. Her expression was a practiced one, one that most likely said she was trying to record his reactions and make sure he was handling the news okay.

"So what's there to discuss?" Cam finally said, his voice low and combative.

Dr. Reid secured the bandage in place on Cam's arm. The white medical gauze covered his entire arm up to his elbow. While Cam stared wistfully at the bandage, Dr. Reid lowered her hands into her lap and stared at him until he finally looked up at her again. "After you finish your hold here… Depending on what we find, you'll have to have more time here or possible further treatment… Most likely you'll have further treatment, Campbell. You can choose to stay here or you can return home. Somewhere closer to Ontario." She nodded along as she spoke, clearly trying to encourage some kind of positive reaction.

Cam remained silent. He could barely process what he had done to himself. This was too much.

Dr. Reid turned to Sadie Saunders. "You can give it some thought?" Sadie looked to her with a startled expression as though she had been lost in a daze, but then she nodded. "No one needs to worry about an answer right," continued Dr. Reid, "we'll figure out the best thing to–"

"It won't matter." His voice was feeble, and the words came out with a laugh that was completely numb and void of emotion. He immediately felt two sets of eyes on him.

Sadie's stare was full of confusion and defeat, the words both paining and perplexing her; Dr. Reid looked at him with more of a curiosity as she turned to look back at her new patient, but he had already dropped his eyes back to the white sheets he lay under.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's true," Cam muttered. "I'm just messed up."

Sadie took a step closer. Her eyes were filling with tears again. "Baby, why would you say that? You're not messed up. You're perfect," she choked out, her voice already breaking.

Cam's own eyes felt wet. He looked up at her quickly and then back down again. "I'm not, Mom," he whispered, his voice pained. Before she could manage a reply, he spoke again through clenched teeth, "Where is everyone else? Dad?" Slowly and with serious caution Cam looked up at his mother. "Justin?" He'd been so overwhelmed by his mother's pain and the doctor's presence that he momentarily forget that the rest of his family wasn't there, and something in the pit of his stomach ached.

The doctor's eyes shifted between the pair.

"Your dad had to stay home with Abby and Parker, I didn't…" Sadie fumbled with her hands. Cam could tell she was searching for right words. But there were none. Cam shook his head, dismissing anything else that could be said about his younger siblings. He understood. Abby and Parker were too young to find out that Cam had tried to off himself – they had to keep a safe distance. He didn't know how to feel about his dad not being there, but part of him felt relief. It's not like his dad was any different from most dads; he thought his sons how to play hockey, played tea party with Abby when he had to, and was good at helping with math homework. While he was affectionate when need be, Mr. Saunders was never very emotional. He let his wife deal with that. Cam knew that in all honesty his father's presence probably just would have been awkward.

"Where's Justin?"

Mrs. Saunders shifted her wait from one foot to other and looked about the space around her. She had found a tissue on a table in the corner of the room and was fingering it attentively. It seemed that it was her turn to avoid eye contact with her son. "He's still at school," she said.

"He's pissed at me." It wasn't a question.

"Cam, your brother –"

"It's okay, Mom, just stop," Cam choked out. His mother only dropped her shoulders and sighed in defeat. He leaned his head back on the pillow and clenched his jaw, staring up at the white ceiling. The corners of his eyes were wet, but he blinked away any more possibility of tears. He could only imagine the disgust and disappoint his brother was feeling towards him, but he chose not to because he knew that it would just make him more restless.

There was a long moment of silence in the hospital room. The petite woman known to now be Cam's psychiatrist had sat still through the mother and son's tussle, respectively watching each of them with a quistive face while they spoke. Now that they had quieted down Dr. Reid rose to her feet gingerly and picked up her clipboard, scribbling down some unknown information that Cam wasn't even focused on.

"Campbell–"

"Cam." He spit out his name in frustration, his eyes still fixed on the wall above.

Dr. Reid glanced back at Mrs. Saunders before running a thoughtful hand across her face, then nodding in understanding. "I'm sorry." She sat on the side of Cam's bed, forcing him to edge away slightly. She leaned in slightly so that he had to look at her. "Cam, I have to give you medication now."

"Don't I… have that already?" he asked solemnly, returning back to his timid nature. The sutures on his arm didn't really hurt, although maybe they just stung a little.

She smiled at him softly. "I meant for your mental state, Cam."

He looked at her quickly, almost alarmed by the idea. He had never been given any time of medication for his emotions. The people around him had always attributed his extreme behavior or stress to just being a teenager and a hockey star. The idea that someone was actually offering him a legitimate solution made his heart swell. But that feeling was immediately overcome with fear – fear that the pills would change him to someone else. He dismissed this idea. He already didn't recognize himself.

Cam glimpsed past Dr. Reid at his mother for a second, and then looked back into the caring face in front of him. "What if they don't work?" His voice was low, cautious for his mother to hear, his eyes flickering back and forth from Dr. Reid's face as he was too timid to stare directly at her. "You can't fix me, Dr. Reid."

For a moment the woman before him seemed surprised. She drew back from him slightly, arching an eyebrow as she looked on at him. But she recovered quickly and leaned back in, the smallest smile pinching at the edge of her lips as she said quietly, "My name is Lucy, and I'm not here to fix you, Cam. I'm here to help you."

* * *

**author's note: **I didn't mean for that to be as long as it was! I started out unsure of this chapter but now I really like it. You guys are so lucky, because I planned on making you wait to see Cam but the reviews made me re-consider. See why you should always leave your opinion? Next chapter will have Maya and other Degrassi characters... I'll leave you to make your own guesses at who! Please leave a review! I genuinely appreciate all reviews, favorites, and follows.

Also, who else cried hysterically at last night's episode? I've watched Maya's breakdown at least six times.


	4. Empty Holes

**Chapter Three: **_I don't like walking around this old and empty house._

Her parents had agreed to let their daughter stay at home immediately following the news of the incident, but Maya knew there was no point in staying home after that first day. She couldn't hide in her room for the rest of the school year, and it was realistic to assume that people were already whispering about her at Degrassi with or without her actual presence in the halls. The idea of that was enough to make her lay back down on her bed that Thursday morning, the place where she had spent the entire day prior, only ever getting up to go to the bathroom or retrieve a sweater. Katie had brought her a sandwich and two bottles of water that day during lunch, which was irritating in itself because her sister had a way of wearing her heart on sleeve. That meant her expressions, too. Maya could see the look of sorrow in Katie's solemn face, which was almost comical considering Katie hadn't even wanted Maya dating the hockey player, and now her sister was showing more emotion than anyone about the situation. So by the later part of that Wednesday the blonde had pretended to be asleep every time she heard her sister's footsteps on the staircase, and it had worked. She'd been in solitude for nearly 12 hours when she woke up that morning for school.

It wasn't that she wanted to run away from what had happened. She wanted it to have never happened in the first place. She'd never dealt with grief before, although she figured she was at the denial stage of the whole process. But what exactly was she grieving – Cam's survival, the attempt itself? Maybe she was just feeling sorry for herself and wasn't grieving at all.

Katie had asked her about five times if she was sure about going to school, even after they were already in the car and on their way. It had only been a day since the students had found out about the "ordeal" – that's what Katie kept calling it – and surely Maya needed more time to cope with the reality of it herself, without all those eyes on her. Maya was unaware of what exactly the student body had been told or how it had been handled the day before, but from the way Katie was acting it couldn't have been a very forgiving day at Degrassi when the students found out their beloved hockey star had tried to take his own life.

"No amount of time is going to change what he did." Maya's voice was distant and unapologetic as she spoke. She was staring out the window at the passing trees and houses, but she still felt Katie give her a fleeting look. Nothing else was said after that.

Maya sat still in the car when they first arrived in the parking lot, staring hesitantly at the school's front entrance. Katie watched her from the driver's seat. There was a long pause of silence between the Matlin sisters as they sat in the car, Maya's eyes focused on the school and Katie's stare focused on Maya. The only sound around them was students passing in the parking lot, cars starting, doors shutting. But everything was completely still in Maya's mind as she stared at the front steps. She remembered jumping into Cam's arms that Monday. It was three days later, and he certainly wasn't there waiting for her anymore.

As she blinked away the images, Maya unbuckled herself and opened the door, quietly heading towards the school. Katie was close behind her little sister as they approached the steps and then ascended each one. It took a minute, but eventually eyes turned to look at her. It was like a domino effect: more and more eyes followed her as she moved up the concrete steps. At the top of the steps stood a couple of Ice Hounds. Something inside strained in her heart when she saw the familiar red jacket. She didn't recognize the younger hockey player, but the one closest to the doors was Owen Milligan. Maya quickly dropped her head to avoid eye contact with him, but not before she saw the grave look he gave her. While she pushed her way through the front door she could see Owen give Katie a quick nod, some sort of mutual older sibling understanding. Maya remembered the way Owen had fought for Tristan at the time of the play, but unfortunately, there was no one to fight for Maya's safety in this situation.

At least that's what she thought before she entered the actual high school. When she made her way into the building and looked up she was met with a field of staring faces. There was literally not one person in the open space before her that was not looking at her or searching her face somehow. Maya felt her face flushed as her eyes awkwardly flickered from one face to the other. It was safe to say that the ninth grader had never anticipated this kind of attention during this year of her life, but as suddenly as she had felt them on her, she felt the stares slowly disperse as students turned back to their occupations before she had entered the building. Maya looked over her shoulder and realized that Katie had been making some very rude gestures towards the sea of eyes. The brunette continued to stare hatefully at students whose eyes still wandered in Maya's direction, but she stopped when she realized Maya was watching her.

"Just making sure people mind their own damn business." Katie lifted her hands to Maya in surrender, laughing gently as she smiled at her sister.

Despite herself, Maya smiled back. "You can't follow me around all day like that, Katie."

Katie pretended to pout. "But I was really looking forward to that part."

Maya tried to laugh, but it wasn't possible. The sound fizzled out and became a distorted sigh as Maya crashed back to reality. The process of forcing out a laugh had literally hurt, and she felt something inside her cave in as her chest tightened. Katie's shoulders fell and she wiped the smile from her face, reaching out to put a hand on Maya's shoulder. The look on her face said that it was okay, but Maya didn't feel okay. The queasiness in her stomach said she should've stayed in her bed.

A small figure appeared to their left and both girls looked at the same time. Marisol was standing a few feet away, fidgeting with her bangs and looking at the sisters, obviously waiting for Katie but unsure how to approach with Maya standing there.

Maya let out a deep breath and looked at her sister. "She knows I'm not glass, right?" She was teasing, but her composure didn't quite match the joke, and it just came out impassive.

Katie smirked, a sign that she appreciated Maya's attempt. "Hey, that's the most quiet she's stayed this whole year." Katie's quirkiness atoned for her joke better, and it sounded genuine.

Maya forced a smile in reply and then looked towards Marisol. "You can go. I have to go get some books from my locker anyway," the young girl said, glancing at the ground and then back to her sister. Katie's eyes asked if she would really be okay, but Maya gave another closed-lip smile and nodded towards Marisol so Katie would go on. The brunette wrapped an arm around Maya's small frame and gave a gentle squeeze before moving towards her friend.

"Katie?" Maya called suddenly. Her voice sounded like a frightened child, causing Katie to turn around immediately with a questioning face. The two girls locked eyes for a minute before Maya just shrugged, signaling that she wasn't even sure what she needed to say, but Katie just smiled.

"It's going to be okay, Chicken Little." And with that, Katie had walked away. Maya watched her disappear around the corner with Marisol and felt her stomach turning into knots again. Maybe she needed her sister now more than she would admit or had even realized until she grasped Katie was already gone and out of sight.

Maya took a deep breath and tried to tell herself that it was going to be okay. She nodded to herself and then turned around to the hall that held her locker only to be met with more glances and mouths covered as they talked about her. She huffed and clenched her jaw, walking without conviction towards her locker. She gripped the strap of her backpack on her shoulder as she counted each step she took, staring straight ahead at her locker. The stares were burning holes into her entire body.

A sigh of relief started to pass her lips as she neared her locker, reaching out to maneuver the combination. Her relief was cut short when a familiar figure appeared beside her. Her hand rested on her locker as she felt that same sense of nausea wash over her. She peeked up at the tall figure but refused to actually look at his face.

"What, Zig?" Her voice was cold and daunting, but she didn't care. She pulled open her locker and stared into it, trying to appear more interested in it than the person beside her as more people stopped to look at the pair. The raven-haired boy represented everything she did not want to be reminded of in that moment. If the intense stares all around her weren't enough, of course Zig was going to pop up and remind her of events passed.

"I just wanted to talk to you, Maya…" he mumbled softly, standing over her as she fumbled with the contents. "Are you okay? I mean, Cam, is he–" Zig took a deep breath. "Is it true?"

_You don't know how much I wish it wasn't._ "What do you think, Zig?" Maya spoke against a gritted jaw, her voice nearly inaudible. She felt the heat on her face increase with each passing stare that she felt on her back. She wasn't clairvoyant but the general assumption of what people were thinking as they passed Maya and Zig wasn't hard to guess. It did, however, make Maya feel even more disgusted.

"Maya…" Zig's tone was so distressed. It was _so_ full of desperation, in fact, that it made Maya's mind spin.

The angry side of her snapped. "What, Zig?!" Her voice was too loud and drew more attention from those around them. She restrained from looking around and simply lowered her voice, "You hated him at the beginning of this week. Please don't pretend like anything you say is going to be justified after everything that happened!" Maya's tone was quieter now, but still full of contempt. She knew that being angry and hateful towards Zig wasn't going to fix her own feelings but she couldn't help it. This wasn't his fault alone, but she just felt so consumed by frustration that suddenly he was trying to act sorry. Where was all of this at the beginning when she asked him to stop?

Maya pulled a book out of her locker. She didn't even know what it was or if she needed it, but she nestled it in the crook of her arm and tried to appear less upset than she was. Zig was staring at her with a frown. He looked away, obviously unsure of how to argue with that. Some small part of her felt regretful for pushing her guilt onto him, but it vanished when the boy spoke again.

"Is Cam going to be okay?"

She didn't answer. Instead she pretended to mess with the books inside her locker, but really she was just running her hand along the bindings.

"Maya?"

That last nerve snapped. Maya slammed her locker shut, gaining the attention of the entire hall again, and she turned to face Zig with resounding defiance. "I don't know, okay? I haven't seen him."

"What?" Zig seemed genuinely surprised, almost taken aback. He blinked at her. "What do you mean you haven't seen him? When you weren't here yesterday, everyone thought…" Zig trailed off, still staring into Maya's blank face.

That was it then. Everybody was so intent on staring into Maya's soul because they thought she'd been with her damaged boyfriend. They thought she'd been with him in despair, sat with him at the hospital, and been everything a good and attentive girlfriend would be. If it were even possible, she felt worse when she realized she hadn't been there like everyone had assumed.

"I haven't seen him, Zig. I haven't talked to him. I don't know anything," spat Maya, turning on her heel and rushing back down the hall. She heard Zig call after her, but there was so much turmoil inside of her that she was worried it would spill over if she just stood there any longer.

Her pulse was still up from hurrying through the halls when she entered her French class. She stopped abruptly when she walked through the door, surprised and grateful that the class actually wasn't that full yet. Madame Jean-Aux was facing the board, and Maya shuffled to reach her seat without giving the teacher a chance to notice her. When she found her seat Maya immediately opened her book, not even acknowledging the page, and pretended to be very interested in the foreign language on the sheet.

More students shuffled in around her. Zig walked in alongside his friend, staring at Maya the entire time. She kept her eyes on her book and inwardly scoffed at Zig's inability to even feign being subtle about everything. As students around her all took their seats, Tori and Tristan were the last two to walk in. Maya could see them pause to look at her when they walked in, but Tori moved toward the empty seats behind her and Tristan followed suit, staring longer at Maya than Tori had. Madame Jean-Aux turned around to face the class and put her hands together, instructing the class to begin chanting their French verbs. If she noted Maya in her class she didn't show it, and for that Maya was eternally grateful. She kept her eyes on her book as she muttered her verbs along with the rest of the class, barely audible amidst the droning sound of her classmates who all sounded less than thrilled.

The class was about to begin reading through a section in their book when noise from the hall disrupted them. The room's door was still held open, and all 19 students in the French class began to look up and search for the cause of the noise. It was distant at first, but they didn't have to wait long before the source of the noise was revealed: Mike Dallas was moving down the hall like a tornado, punching lockers and ripping flyers from the wall, even kicking the doorframe of Maya's classroom as he passed. His irate cries echoed through the halls and into the classroom. The students stirred and some stood up from their seats to lean over and stare at the hockey captain's path of destruction. Two more figures soon emerged from down the hall. Maya recognized one of them as the assistant hockey coach, and the other was a girl Katie's age, Fiona Coyne. The assistant coach was reaching for Dallas as the young man swung at random lockers and searched for more things to destroy, and Fiona was almost in tears herself.

"Dallas, stop!" pleaded the brunette, careful to stand out of his reach while the coach continued to struggle with him.

The hockey player ignored her cries and continued to fight his coach's grip, still searching for more things to take his anger out on as he swung at air, breathless and angry howls coming up from his throat in the process. The assistant coach was demanding Dallas to calm down, his voice a mixture of desperation and frustration as he struggled to grasp for the young man. Dallas slipped away from him long enough to retrieve a step ladder propped up against the wall just outside the classroom's door. Dallas shoved past his coach and raised it over his head. Students gasped and Madame Jean-Aux advanced towards the door, all of them knowing his aim: he was trying to break the glass window in the science lab just across the hall. There was more commotion, most likely from those inside the science lab itself as students inside were watching Dallas as well.

As he advanced towards the window, he and the coach slipped out of sight, Dallas preparing to launch the ladder and the coach jumping for Dallas, but Maya and the students could still hear what happened next as the older man shouted over the sound of his player's disgruntled sobs.

"Dallas! Mike, stop! Son, you're going to hurt someone!"

His words were followed by a loud crash; however, it wasn't the sound of glass breaking. It was the sound of the ladder dropping to the ground as Dallas threw it down and turned on his coach, advancing towards him with a deep anger in his eyes. The two came back into view as the coach backed up, Dallas coming far too close with clenched fists. As he grabbed his player by the shoulders to keep him at a distance, Dallas pushed his hands off and started screaming.

"Somebody's already hurt, Coach, he's _already hurt_! And we're _all_ responsible!" The tears were visible on the young man's face now as he backed up slowly, looking back at a distraught Fiona. He looked back at the assistant coach. Maya couldn't see the man's face but she could imagine the look of disdain and shock on it – she certainly felt her own face taking on that expression. Meanwhile, the hockey player looked past his coach and into the classroom, settling his eyes on Madame Jean-Aux, who was frozen at her door. "Don't any of you get that?" That last question was full of pain. His voice broke on the last word.

Dallas placed his hands on his head and let out a final angry scream. He turned around and threw the side of his fist against the glass window, pausing to lower his head. Everyone – the class, Madame Jean-Aux, the coach, Fiona – they all stood silence with him for several long moments until he finally pulled back and kicked the wall one last time, disappearing out of Maya's view with Fiona slowly following. The assistant coach stared after them before finally walking away in the other direction, either to retrieve Simpson or to go talk to the main coach. The latter was more believable.

Madame Jean-Aux looked across the hall before finally closing the door. She held onto the doorknob as she looked up at her students, searching their faces. Everyone was surprisingly silent, the students having sat back down in their seats. Maya took notice when the female teacher's eyes held hers longer than anyone else's and knew that it was no mistake. Madame Jean-Aux returned to her desk and fumbled to find the words to return to her lesson, clearly choosing not to address the situation at hand.

As the class moved on around her, Maya could still hear the captain's voice on repeat in her head like a broken record.

_We're all responsible._

The frail blonde felt a lump forming in her throat, a familiar cloudiness in her mind taking over. She slowly raised her hand into the air, still staring ahead into nothing. Her eyes only connected with something when she heard Madame Jean-Aux solemnly speak her name in response to the risen hand. When her name was spoken, Maya was suddenly aware of more eyes veering in her direction. She looked over her shoulder and realized they weren't focused on her.

They were on the empty seat beside her, the seat that had belonged to Cam.

Maya immediately returned to her own stare to the nothingness she had found before. "I– I have to go.. I have to go to the bathroom." She got up without waiting for a response, never again making contact with the young, pretty teacher as she stumbled towards the door.

The older woman must have understood because she simply watched Maya, eyes full of empathy.

Everything in Maya's mind was hazy as she made her way into the bathroom and locked herself in the center stall. She pressed her back against the stall's door, its material cold against her bare arms. The gentle humming of the bathroom lights overheard lulled her further. She hit her head against the door and whined, tightening her jaw. She tried rubbing her temples and even tried to take small, even breathes, but that ache inside her – the one that had grown familiar these last couple days – wouldn't go away. She kept hearing what Dallas had said and remembering the flustered tears that streamed down his face, and for a minute, she wanted to cry too. She just wanted a release.

When she realized she would not find that release locked in the girls' bathroom, Maya inhaled one last time before she turned and opened the stall door to leave, only to be met by someone else standing in the open bathroom space. She squeaked, a sound most likely comparable to a mouse, and jumped back, obviously dumbfounded by this other person's presence. She tried to swallow over the lump in her throat as she stood clumsily in the stall with her hand on its door and frame.

"Are you okay, girl?" Bianca DeSousa asked, raising an eyebrow as she watched the small blonde.

Maya stood there for a minute with her mouth open. She was alarmed that Bianca was even talking to her. They'd never spoken before, and for obvious reasons. Besides the age gap, Bianca was probably her sister's least favorite person in this entire place after everything that had happened with Drew, and it didn't seem to be in Bianca's nature to make nice with her enemy's little sister. It was for those reasons that Maya could only stare flabbergasted at the older girl, but instead of getting exasperated or annoyed, Bianca simply gave what Maya could only describe as a soft smile and advanced closer to the blonde.

"Sorry," said Bianca, "I guess you're tired of that question."

"Oh, uh… Yeah." That was all Maya could manage out. She was still staring.

To her surprise, Bianca laughed softly. It was unknown to Maya, but Bianca had been in this same bathroom with Campbell Saunders at the beginning of the year. Here it was, almost the end of her Degrassi career, and she was trying to console Katie Matlin's little sister in the same bathroom where she had soothed the crying boy. Maya had heard all about the bad blood between her sister and this girl, including the unfavorable names that Katie had for Bianca.

Maya had honestly expected the dark brunette to breathe fire before ever offering any kind of genuine, soft comfort. She would never admit it to Katie, but Bianca was actually beautiful.

"High school sucks," Bianca said as her smile faded. She locked eyes with Maya, her stare humbling.

Maya only nodded in response, understanding what Bianca was trying to say.

Bianca moved closer again and to Maya's surprise, she actually wrapped her arms around Maya and gave her a small hug. It wasn't the type of hug exchanged between loved ones, but there was some form of compassion in Bianca's short hold on her. Some small part of Maya – the part that wasn't too overwhelmed to think – found it bemusing that a stranger seemed to understand more than anyone else.

When the small embrace was over, each girl looked on at each other. Maya bit on the inside of her cheek nervously, glancing around. Bianca gave Maya's arm a final touch before stepping out of her way, the younger of the two finally walking towards the bathroom's exit. She paused to look over her shoulder at Bianca, who was watching her with a sad smile. Bianca nodded to her, and Maya walked out, still not realizing that as Bianca watched her leave, all she saw was Cam leaving so many months ago.

Maya was careful not to let her eyes focus on anyone when she re-entered her French class, quietly walking back to her seat and sitting down. Madame Jean-Aux kept writing something in her language on the board, but Maya still noticed when the teacher glanced over her shoulder at the pale student. Apparently no one at this school was good with subtly, but Maya wasn't really expecting much of anything at that point. It hadn't even been a full class period and she already felt emotionally incapable. The students were all talking quietly while Madame wrote on the board, but Maya was somewhat confident that none of it was about her this time.

With their instructor's back to them, Tristan had taken it upon himself to pull up a seat beside his old friend. Maya didn't have to look up to know who it was, but she did. She offered a hopeful smile.

"You don't have to sit up here alone," Tristan said quietly. He placed a hand under his chin, glancing past her with an uncomfortable stare at Cam's former seat on her opposite side.

Maya groaned. "I don't need anyone to worry about me sitting alone…"

Tristan responded with a sigh, his eyes meeting the table before he looked back to her face. "Maya, I am sorry about what happened."

"It's not your fault, Tris. It's nobody's fault." She was whispering.

"Okay, then I'm… I'm sorry you're dealing with this."

_Don't worry. I'm not. _

When she only forced a smile in response, Tristan shifted his body language and moved closer. "Hey, just sit with us at lunch, okay?" The wrinkles on his forehead gathered as he pushed up his eyebrows, his face bright with optimism as he placed out the verbal offering to the dismal little thing in front of him.

Maya didn't respond, but instead glimpsed over her shoulder at Tori. Her ex-best friend was already staring at her, but dropped her brown eyes quickly upon meeting Maya's own gaze.

Tristan looked between both girls and shook his head, resting his stare on Maya. "She's sorry too, Maya. She just doesn't know how to say it." Behind them, Tori glanced up again.

But Maya just nodded. She had no other words. Tristan must have sensed he wasn't going to accomplish anything else in that moment because he gave her one last uneasy smile before returning to his original seat beside Tori. She heard the two talking mindlessly behind her after that, along with the rest of the class. Madame Jean-Aux lowered her chalk and turned back around to face the class. Everyone quieted and focused on their teacher, but Maya had begun to stare at the empty seat herself.

Maya effortlessly moved out of her seat and took the empty one beside her, shifting uncomfortably in Cam's old spot. Her chest tightened as she felt the reality set in. The emptiness inside was becoming too deep to fill. She looked beside her at the new empty seat, realizing that this was too much for her to handle on her own. She couldn't fill the hole alone, just like she couldn't fill both seats.

* * *

**author's note:** This chapter is even longer than the last one. I'm not apologizing, but don't kill me if the chapters aren't always this long! I edited the first 3 chapters and actually read through this one already, so it should be mostly problem free. Anyway, I tried to conclude everyone I felt important to respond (okay, not everyone, but mostly). You'll see more of Dallas and Zig in the future, don't worry. Somehow I got a Cam/Maya/Cam/Maya pattern going with these chapters, which wasn't ever my intention, so I can't say for certain who the next chapter will follow since I don't know if I'll stick with the current pattern or not... Guess you'll have to wait! Thank you to everyone who reviews and reads!


	5. Scorpion

**Chapter Four: **_Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear._

Cam really hadn't thought this through.

He'd wanted a break for so long, but this was never how he imagined it. The amount of energy that went into trying to keep himself composed during his stay in the hospital was overwhelming. It should have been easier than this considering all he did was stay in his room all day. His arms were still strapped to the bed since his 72 hour hold wasn't up, but the numb had set in for the most part. They removed the restraints so he could be given the opportunity to feed himself but his appetite wasn't really there. He felt pretty justified to not eat, considering his situation.

They didn't seem to agree with that. By the end of his second day Cam had been stuck with another needle and given his "meals" that way. If that wasn't invasive enough, he was absolutely monitored around the clock. Beside the unsettling sight of his mother sleeping in a chair for the past 48 hours, there were officers posted outside his room as well. Maybe they were hospital security. He wasn't sure about that, but he _was_ sure that he didn't appreciate their company, particularly when he had to shower with them standing guard in the bathroom.

No, he definitely hadn't thought this through.

It was the morning of the final day for his suicide watch. His mom had been by his side ever since she first appeared in his room with tears streaking her face; an image thought was burnt into his brain. He suspected that she was scared to leave him. His family's absence, after all, had played a big part in his downward spiral. He didn't know how to explain to her that it wasn't the only part. He didn't know how to explain anything to her at this point. He also suspected that she shared those feelings. No one had spoken directly to him about it, but he knew that the fourth floor of the hospital was reserved for psychiatric patients. The nurses during the night shifts hadn't been very cautious with their words when they would come in and talk amongst themselves, assuming the young boy was asleep.

Cam had his attention fixed on the television in his room. His mother had a Lifetime movie turned on, something that would've really annoyed him if they had been at home in Kapuskasing. But now he almost felt obligated to sit through the sappy movie with her, so that's exactly what he was doing.

A soft tap on the door garnered the attention of both Cam and Sadie.

"Good morning!" The psychiatrist known as Lucy Reid greeted them with a smile. She closed the door behind her and came to Cam's beside, the familiar clipboard in hand. She didn't say much else as she scanned the quietly beeping monitors connected to her patient and began scribble on her paper, so Cam just watched her. Her blonde hair was pulled back, but loose pieces of hair fell over her face. The position of her head tilted down made it hard to see her eyes, but he already knew they were deep and brown. Her physical appearance reminded him of his mom. He had never noticed a ring on her left hand and still didn't see one now. He silently wondered if she had children.

In the midst of his thoughts he hadn't noticed that she was settled into the seat beside him now. He broke his concentration to meet her gaze, but she was glancing past him at his mom. The two women locked eyes and Sadie cleared her throat as she rose to her feet, immediately leaning over her son.

"I'm going to get food, honey," Sadie said with a force of enthusiasm. She kissed the top of Cam's head and quickly draped her arms around him. The hug was awkward with his position on the hospital bed, but she lingered and held onto him longer than she had before. She'd gotten into the habit of doing that, like she thought he was just going to disappear as soon as she let go. But she did eventually, and added a quick "I love you" before disappearing out the door.

Cam knew that Dr. Reid had been speaking to his mom as well, outside of his range of comprehension. Regardless of not knowing what was said between the women he could still gather that the doctor was doubling as a counselor for the grieving mother as well, and the thought of his mom having to speak to a psychiatrist or any form of psychiatric aid because of his own stupidity made him upset.

"She loves you." The doctor's voice interrupted his thoughts. Something in her words made him hurt more, but she continued, "How're you feeling, Cam?"

He raised his head to her and then nodded, tightening his lips. "I'm good," he forced out, offering an uncomfortable smile.

"Just good?"

"Yeah, I mean…" Cam scoffed and motioned to the straps holding down his arms. He knew that he was a danger to himself – he'd already proven that – but it still felt like too much.

Lucy nodded. She leaned over and undid the straps, allowing him to pull his own arms out. "And now, Cam?" The way she repeated his name was also overwhelming.

"I'm good," he repeated. He glanced up at her from under his eyelashes. "Why do you always repeat my name like that?"

"It's a technique." She offered a smile. "I'm reminding you that who you are is important, and what you feel as a person is important, too."

"All that by just repeating my name?"

The good doctor laughed. "Yes, Cam. All of that." Sometimes she would say or do things that made him more comfortable, because she was acting like a real person and not just someone there to examine his mental state. Her laugh was an example of that. He felt himself ease, the rigidness of his body loosening.

It didn't last long.

"Cam, you have to tell me why you tried to kill yourself."

The uneasiness returned. Cam could feel heat spreading over his body as he averted his eyes, trying to avoid looking at her. What he had done was no secret, but he'd never heard the words out loud before, and each one of them hurt more than the last. He was becoming physically ill and even groggy. He felt submerged for a minute, like he was drowning and had no way out. He struggled to breathe and gasped for air as Dr. Reid watched him with an inquisitive stare. Each flicker of her brown eyes studied him. Cam knew that he was breathing but he couldn't actually _feel _the air in his lungs. He felt smothered, trapped. He looked about indiscreetly, so familiar with hiding his emotions that he struggled to keep his suffering under control in front of the psychiatrist's view.

"It all hurt," was all he could finally manage. He said it in a gasp of air. As soon as the words were out, the water cleared and it was like he had found oxygen again. He breathed it in, his head falling back on his pillow as his body shuddered from the reeling effects of his physical pain.

"What hurt? Playing hockey?" Lucy leaned closer, her voice delicate. She searched Cam's face. "Being away from home?"

"Everything," Cam choked. He felt the beads of sweat on the back of his neck. His head was spinning, a great pressure pushing in on his chest. It felt like everything was going to explode. "Everything _hurts_! Okay? Everything fucking hurts!" he screamed, gripping his head and struggling to breathe, sitting up in the bed.

"Cam, just breathe."

The clock on the wall let out numerous ticks. The minutes on it dragged on.

Lucy finally reached a hand out and touched his arm, which caused him to flinch away. He struggled for a few more jagged breathes before slowly lowering his arms. He clenched the white sheets as his pounding heart eased, lost in the fogginess of his own mind and the demons inside.

When he finally looked up at the doctor, there was something different in his eyes. It was shame. He felt the heat return to his face, but this time it was from embarrassment. He'd never broken down like that in front of someone. The fact that it was a trained professional somehow did not ease the humiliation.

"Campbell," Lucy whispered as she shifted towards him again. Her voice was placid and soothing, a rehearsed dose of medication in itself. Her head tilted to the side as she watched him, careful not to touch him again. "You're okay now, it's all okay."

He clenched his jaw. "What about that was okay? I just lost my mind," he retorted bitterly.

"No." She shook her head. "You had a panic attack."

The words generally surprised him. He almost laughed, taken aback by her diagnosis. He'd never been diagnosed with anything in his life besides a physical injury. When he raised his eyes to meet hers, he was met with solemn and dejected eyes. The pair remained like that for several long moments, caught in each other's stare as each one tried to piece together the situation at hand.

"But wh–what… I…" Cam swallowed, discomforted by his suddenly dry mouth. "What does that mean?"

"It means I think you have an anxiety disorder," the doctor whispered in response. Her words were slow, precise. She was positioned close to him, a hand hovering close to his in case another one set in. Her inquisitive eyes studied him with intensity. She watched him as he remained perfectly still, eyes transfixed on her in anticipation of more answers.

"An anxiety disorder," she continued when confident he could handle the information, "is associated with a lot of the fear and uneasiness that I think you've been experiencing." She paused to monitor him, but her patient was motionless. "You have restlessness… Irritability… You have problems concentrating?" Each word was spoken carefully and clearly. She continued on with her list, characterizing each and every possibility given from the disorder she spoke of.

The more she spoke, the more distraught Cam felt. He only nodded his head slowly in response to each question. He felt his heart begin to race once more, but not out of panic. It was out of disdain. As she spoke, he felt no relief, no overwhelming sense of close to his suffering. All he felt was the stinging realization that it had all just begun. He saw no end in sight, no ray of light at the end of the tunnel. But then another part of him began to feel anger. The anger was directed at himself, at those who surrounded him during his life, at every moment he'd ever had in his life that ultimately led to him never seeking help. The madness cultivated itself deep in his chest, a pain so big that he was surprised Dr. Reid couldn't see it about to break free from behind his ribcage.

Shaken to his core by the revelation, Cam found himself struggling to breathe once again. He realized that he had still been holding onto the sheets this entire time, and his fists ached from the intensity in which he held onto the fabric. He released his hold and ran a trembling hand over his face.

What was he supposed to do with something like this? Was he supposed to find comfort in the fact that something was wrong with him, that the agony and distress had never just been a painful illusion? Maybe he was just going to suffer more because _there was something wrong with him_. Did he have to explain this for the rest of his life? Would he take pills? Would he be committed for the rest of his life, tied to a bed like this while his mother cried beside him – or even left about him altogether?

The rush of thoughts went straight to his head, and the sweat began to gather at the base of his neck again. He felt the numb begin to spread through his body. He struggled to find air again, letting out a frustrated whimper as everything returned. The knowledge of what was happening somehow brought on a whole new type of panic – the kind that came with the nervous expectation of disaster.

Lucy's voice broke through his thoughts. "Cam, do you know what a scorpion does when it's met by fire?"

Cam scoffed at her. "What?"

"Scorpions, do you know what they do when they're in danger?"

He gawked at her with no real emotion. He was confused and almost offended that she was speaking to him and had brought up this question as his world was spinning around him. The familiar ache from these "panic attacks" was still present deep in his chest as he shook his head at her, unable to form a verbal answer besides a flustered, "No. I have _no_ idea."

She seemed unaffected by his dismay. "Scorpions are known to sting, and they have dangerous venom," said the psychiatrist, speaking with purpose. "When a scorpion is surrounded by fire – something that distresses them – they will panic and thrash in fear until they ultimately sting themselves."

"What?" Cam was so consumed by his own distress that he was unable to take in his words at first. He shook his head at her before shifting in his bed and turning his back on her as though he was going to get up, but he was suddenly hit by the weight of what she was trying to say.

"The scorpion injects itself with its own venom out of fear, Cam."

He replayed the words over and over in his head and strained his neck to look at her until he finally understood. "They kill themselves," he said simply.

Lucy nodded.

The moment was followed by silence.

"What do you think of scorpions, Cam?"

"I don't know."

"Come on."

He shrugged, searching for something. "I think I wouldn't want to be alone with one."

She smirked. "Because they're dangerous?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess."

"Scorpions are powerful. You'd think nothing could defeat them, right?"

It was Cam's turn to nod.

"They are a sign of control and protection," Lucy continued.

"Yeah. I guess… I guess they can take care of themselves."

"So it's pretty crazy to think that such a strong creature could turn on itself, right?"

Cam nodded again.

Lucy met his eyes and stared, tilting her to the side. "Kind of like a talented, young hockey player with a lot to lose?"

He had never felt more stunned in his life. His mouth fell agape as he stared back at her, eyes full of realization. Words sat on the tip of his tongue, but nothing came out. His pulse lulled as her meaning struck him, and he realized she had completely baited him into that. His emotions were mixed, but he couldn't focus on anything besides the revelation of what had just happened. He didn't know which part had caught him for off-guard: the way in which she had led him into the conversation or the truth behind the conversation itself.

Cam tired of locking eyes with her and he allowed his stare to drop, along with face. He turned his head and looked into space, at a loss for words. He felt his emotions coming to a head, but he was distracted again by another epiphany. The signs leading up to his panic attack had stopped.

He had risen to his feet and was facing her again. Lucy leaned her head back to look at him, her face blank. She was obviously waiting for his reaction, aware that it was coming.

But he had no idea what that reaction was. All he could see while he looked at her was a scorpion, surrounded by flames and overwhelmed – ready to attack itself. The metaphor was all too clear in Cam's mind as the scorpion faded to himself and memory of his skate's sharp blade.

Cam had prepared himself to speak but when he noticed a male doctor enter. The man hung on the door frame as , obviously in a hurry. He ignored Cam's presence and only looked to Dr. Reid, who had turned around at the sound of the door opening.

The doctor nodded to Cam without looking at him. "Is he allowed visitors, Lucy?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

Rather than answering directly, Lucy resumed looking at Cam as though to ask him.

Cam felt his pulse jump as soon as her eyes were on him. He immediately imagined Maya standing in the waiting room, uneasily aware or even paranoid of people looking at her when they weren't. She was probably debating walking out as she waited the verdict, ready to run away from Cam's chaos before she was enveloped by it. As he allowed himself to picture her, Cam felt his heart aching. It hurt so bad that he felt his eyes moisten at the thought of her, accompanied by panic setting in. He almost said no, but despite himself he gave a hasty nod. Lucy gave her own quick nod of the head to the male doctor who immediately turned to his right and waved a hand to signal someone forward.

A figure passed by the observation window of his room as the doctor stepped back, allowing the figure to cross in front of him and step into the room.

Cam was both thankful and disappointed by who he saw.

"Dallas?"

* * *

**author's note: **I went by my own experience and what I know of suicide protocol in my area, so if it was different for you or someone you know, then I'm sorry but I can only speak from what I know! Also, please don't try to light a scorpion on fire, because that whole scenario I described is considered a myth by most people, and Dr. Reid is an intelligent woman who surely knows this, but the point stands! Also, scorpions represent other things as well, but I listed the ones that were relevant... I know you're all dying for some Camaya, and I'm happy to say the next chapter will begin that part of the story!

Also, if anyone was curious and not aware, the song for the story is Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men. You should go listen to it if you haven't before. It's one of my favorites.

Another thing! The last chapter was named Empty Holes, and it just so happens that a song called Empty Holes was featured on Bittersweet Symphony, pt. 1! I didn't even realize that when I named the chapter. I thought it was ironic.


	6. The Blame Game

**Chapter Five: **_Don't listen to a word I say, the screams all sound the same._

Water poured out of the faucet vigorously, and Maya kept her eyes focused on that as the water covered her. It was probably too hot for most people, but it felt so comforting against Maya's pale skin. Something was cold deep inside of her. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach, but there was no warming that up, so she was willing to settle for warming her flesh at this point.

She lowered her eyes to look at her frail body underneath the clear water. Secretly, Maya really didn't like her body. She almost despised it, and it was for that reason that she often refused to look at it while bathing or changing clothes. Everything about it distressed her, from the way her hip bones protruded to the way her stomach sort of dipped after her rib cage ended. She was especially unhappy with how her chest compared to other girls her age, which was not very well at all. Each imperfection made Maya uncomfortable, but these thoughts remained solely in her head. Tori was perfect in every physical aspect, and Maya had always chastised Katie about being self-conscious years earlier, so what was the point in mentioning it to either of them? She had nobody else to tell.

But Cam had been the only person to make her feel like those flaws didn't matter and he'd never really even tried or known that he was making it better. Her heart began to ache. She took a deep breath and focused on her protruding rib cage, wanting desperately to focus on anything but his face – how one side of his mouth would form that crooked grin, or that his eyebrows moved when he was amused, even the way that his whole face changed when she made him laugh.

_Oh, God, make it stop_. She submerged part of her head into the water and closed her eyes, searching for something that wasn't him. The harder she tried the more everything inside hurt.

"Maya?" Katie's voice was distant on the other side of the bathroom door.

The slender blonde didn't offer any words. She stared at the door, her mouth still sunken beneath the bath water. She knew that she'd been in the bathroom for over an hour. Most of that time had been spent just sitting on the bathroom tile, unable to move. She was stricken with grief, but her young mind couldn't process that. So she had just sat in the bathroom, her body a shell and her mind somewhere else. She had sat there for an hour just trying to feel some kind of hope. She hadn't found it.

A gentle knock came. Maya still said nothing. She didn't hear anything for several long moments, but she knew that Katie was standing close to the door with her hand on the doorknob. Even though it was unlocked, both sisters knew the older girl wouldn't come in. As much as Katie's presence overwhelmed Maya sometimes, it was a lot easier to deal with her sister than her parents in a situation like this. Her parents would have already broken down the door, but Katie had a better understanding on the fourteen year old girl's mind. Maya still questioned whether there was anyone else in the world who could really understand what was in her heart right now.

"Maya, come on." She finally heard Katie grunt on the adjacent side. "Will you just make some kind of noise so I know you're alive? I have to tell Mom and Dad something here, Maya."

Maya used her foot to kick a bottle of soap off the edge. A few seconds after it hit the floor, she heard Katie's footsteps become distant. She could imagine Katie rolling her eyes as she left. She heard Katie's voice echoing in the hall as she gave a false sense of hope to their parents; assuring them that Maya was getting along just fine and was simply being quiet. While she listened to Katie coax her parents, she worried what she would do when they came back after next week. Katie had allowed her to come home early from school both Thursday and Friday, but she doubted her parents would let her do it the rest of the semester. And how would she explain her feelings to them? Because she knew they'd expect her to.

Thursday had been stressful enough after watching Dallas break down, and the empty chair beside her seemed to stare longer than any student. Her lunch was plagued with the words that Dallas had said, and it didn't help that she sat alone because she still wasn't okay with facing Tristan and Tori yet. She had all but ran out of the cafeteria to find her sister, and the moment that Katie agreed to drive her home before the next class period was the most thankful she'd been in a long time.

She had really tried to deal with it earlier that day. She honestly did. After an uneventful first period, she'd almost felt like she was could do it. That only lasted until the two older boys appeared beside her.

A flash of red had caught her eye, and she turned to find the source. Luke Baker was considerably taller than her, so she had been met with the Ice Hound logo instead of his face. She glowered when she finally found his eyes. She hadn't even cared to mask her disdain.

"You doing okay, Matlin?" She remembered the disgust she felt at his voice.

"I'm fine." She had spoken through clenched teeth.

"We just wanted to check on Cam's puck b– girlfriend." Luke's throat cleared, and Maya thought he was an idiot if he really thought she couldn't see the hint of a smile playing on his lips when he spoke. Another hockey player stood behind him, but Maya didn't even know his name. She wasn't concerned.

"What?"

"We wanted to make sure you're alright after what he did."

Maya had slammed her locker so fast that heads spun to look at the source of the noise. "What did he _do_, Luke?" Her voice was laced with venom. The timid freshman had fire in her eyes, a sensation like she was going to cry. But there were no tears in view.

She didn't care about being quiet anymore. She didn't care.

Luke looked genuinely taken aback. He had shot a glance over his shoulder to the other Ice Hound who only raised an eyebrow. The brown-haired boy looked back at her, silent for a minute.

"I'm sorry about what he did, Maya."

The words were enough to make Maya see red, because nothing about it was genuine. She regretted what she had said next, because she had no right to say it, but she said it anyway. "Why? I'm sure he's not." She had felt their stunned stares on her back until she'd turned the corner and rushed to find Katie.

Her thoughts were overwhelming, and the memory of what she'd said about Cam made her feel uncomfortable somehow. She didn't know why it had bothered her to hear someone speak like Cam was to be blamed, because hadn't she been blaming him in her head this entire time? She didn't know why she'd spoken out of so much anger either. Cam wasn't even there to defend himself.

Maya raised her upper body and wiped the water off of her face, searching for air to enter her lungs and calm her mind. When that didn't work, she forced herself out of the bath and grabbed a towel from the cabinet, but not before catching a quick glance at herself in the mirror. She clung to the towel and stared at the empty eyes that met her in that reflection. She couldn't help but feel like she didn't recognize the person looking back at her. The image in the mirror saddened her somehow.

She was scrunching her matted, wet curls with her towel as she emerged from the bathroom, her sweater and pajama pants clinging to her damp skin. Her guard was down with the rush of her thoughts so she didn't notice Katie appear at her side before it was too late, and she almost jumped. She puckered her lips and glanced at the brunette before moving down the hall towards her room.

Katie opened her mouth to speak, but she'd barely managed a breath before the sound of the doorbell chimed throughout the house. Both girls stopped and turned around, Maya with her eyes on her sister and Katie looking down the stairs in the direction of their front door. Katie glanced back up at Maya before sighing and shuffling down the staircase. The younger sister heard the door open after several seconds but heard no voices, so she reasoned with herself to carry on towards her room before Katie returned. But she had barely begun moving again when Katie's voice found her on the second floor.

"Maya, someone is here for you." There was a certain way in which Katie said it, but Maya barely caught it because she was too busy staring at each step, suddenly in a daze. Everything became still for a moment as she considered ignoring whatever visitor may be there, because she didn't care.

She only cared about one thing.

It wasn't Cam.

"Maya!" The contempt in Katie's voice became more evident.

Resigned, the blonde let the towel fall from off her shoulder as she walked down the upstairs hallway and began to descend the staircase. She had barely entered their foyer when Katie came to view, and Maya noticed the brunette staring outside with narrowed eyes. Maya couldn't tell if the look in her eyes was one of disgust or concern – maybe it was both. As she neared the door, the open doorway came into view. Her eyes flickered past her sister's figure and connected with the source of Katie's hollow stare.

Zig Novak was looking nervously at Katie when Maya entered his view. He looked over at Maya, his features changing to take on a look of pleading. It was like his eyes were begging Maya not to kick him off her porch right there. He only held Maya's gaze for a moment and then his eyes were immediately on Katie again as though waiting for her to attack him. His fear wasn't completely misplaced.

Katie _was_ a black belt, and she hadn't been silent about disapproving of Zig after he kissed Maya and threatened her friendship with Tori. It certainly didn't help that Katie had been in Tori's position once before.

There was no doubt in Maya's mind that Katie was picturing Drew as she stared daggers into Zig's disgruntled face.

When the contemplation of the situation passed, Maya found herself frowning at Zig. She suddenly remembered she didn't want him near her. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you, Maya." His voice was soft and desperate.

"We don't have anything to talk about, Zig," huffed Maya. She slowly turned around and started to walk back into the depths of her house.

Zig took a quick step closer on impulse. His eyes were solely on Maya, but Katie took her own step towards him and cut him off on the front step. The look in her eyes dared him to take another step towards her little sister. He immediately recoiled with Maya having stopped to watch. Despite being unhappy to see him, she visibly cringed out of pity for him. He looked like a deer in headlights.

A painfully awkward deer.

He furrowed his eyebrows and frowned, looking on at her sadly. "Please, Maya?"

She didn't know if he was begging her to talk or to save him from her sister, but Maya glanced between Zig and Katie for a minute. If she didn't talk to Zig then she'd be that much closer to a confrontation with her sister, and there was no telling how that would end up.

He must have realized that she was debating the subject in her head, because he shot a hesitant look at Katie before lowering his voice and catching Maya's eye again. "If you don't talk to me now, I'm just going to keep bugging you to do it at school." When she stared at him in reply, he just offered her a solemn look and shrugged. Even when trying to bargain and beg, Zig Novak was still being difficult.

Maya let out a disgruntled sigh. "Fine!" she huffed and moved towards the door. She pretended not to see Zig's small smirk as she neared him and brushed past her sister, who gave her a cautious glance. Maya pretended not to notice that either. She reached for the doorknob and grasped it.

Katie's concerned stare was the last thing she saw before the front door shut completely. Once she was out the door, she quickly passed Zig and wandered out to the end of the porch before turning around. She crossed her arms across her chest, not caring that her pants had pink rabbits on them. She immediately regretted stepping outside and started to think that Katie's painful nagging over how Maya was behaving would be easier to tolerate than this.

A brief silence stood between them before she glanced at him and narrowed her eyes. "You could at least pretend not to be enjoying this," she snapped.

Zig struggled to hide his smirk. "Sorry," he offered, but it didn't do much. "I, uh…" He pointed behind him at her front door. "Your sister is really terrifying. Is that normal for her?"

Maya gave a short nod and averted her eyes.

"All that smoke coming out of her ears?" He motioned towards his own ear. "Totally normal?" When this didn't garner the usual sweet chuckle from Maya, he looked down and cleared his throat.

The quiet that followed was unsettling. Zig forced his hands into his pockets while Maya shifted between her feet, both of them refusing to catch each other's gaze. When Zig would glance at her, he'd quickly move his stare elsewhere when he felt her about to look at him. This went on for several long moments, but when he finally spoke, Maya wasn't willing to listen.

"Look, Maya, I–"

"You what, Zig?" she snapped.

He stared at her with apprehension.

"I already know what you're here to talk about, Zig, so just say it."

"Say what?"

"Whatever it is you want to say about him." She refused to say his name. She didn't think she could manage to let it pass through her lips.

"Maya, I just…" Zig sighed loudly. "I just– I don't want to feel like this is my fault."

She looked up at him but said nothing.

"I know that I was an ass," he continued. "Cam had every right to want to beat the shit out of me, and I should have just left you two alone… I should have been better to Tori." He swallowed hard. "I should have been better to you."

Maya tightened her lips. Her arms were still crossed over her chest, but she felt her demeanor ease at his words. She stared at him thoughtfully while he spoke and felt a new aching in her chest. She didn't want to be mad at him. This was Zig, her friend Zig. But the longer she stared at him, the more she saw Cam. The old ache returned, and she stepped back, placing more distance between them. But Zig was rambling by this point, oblivious to Maya's inner struggle.

"I never wanted anything bad to happen to him, Maya, you have to _know_ that!"

She opened her mouth to answer, but he didn't give her a chance.

"You have to know I didn't want anything to happen to anybody, I didn't mean any of it!" He was waving his hands and shifting uncomfortably, his breath unsteady. "_You_ have to know that, because I don't, Maya!" he yelled, and his chest caved as the last words left his mouth. He took a deep breath and swallowed as though realizing he'd finally said it.

Maya stared at him. Her face was emotionless at first, but then she felt everything all at once.

"Did you seriously come over here to ask _me_ to comfort _you_, Zig?" That venom was back in her voice. Her tone matched the one she had for Luke earlier.

"No, Maya, I…" Zig trailed off. "I don't know, Maya." His voice had become weak, almost pained. "I just keep thinking about everything I said, everything I did…" She could see the pain in his face, the remorse, but it was too late. She was already too far gone to feel anything but upset.

"Where the _hell_ was all this when I told you to leave us alone, Zig?" Her voice was loud, and it broke on his name.

"Maya…"

"I _told_ you, Zig!" she screamed. "I _begged_ you to be _my friend_ and this is how you treat your friends?"

"Ma–"

"You ruin everything for them? You hurt them?"

"Maya, I didn't–"

Flashes of red appeared in front of her eyes again, and she felt her hands shaking.

"So what was Cam, Zig? He wasn't your friend, so was he just your special project to screw over?"

Zig's entire face fell.

"Maya!"

"Congratulations Zig! You did it! Does it feel good? Does it feel good, Zig?"

The small girl felt hands grasp onto her shoulders and realized the voice yelling her name wasn't coming from Zig anymore. She broke through her anger and turned around quickly to meet Katie's horrified eyes. Maya stared into Katie's face for a second before craning her neck to look behind. She realized that she was inches away from Zig, and he was drawn back with an arm lifted in what appeared to be defense. Maya felt a lump form in her throat when she realized that had lunged at him in her rage.

Everything collapsed together. Maya felt her head spin, and she broke free of Katie's hold and rushed past her sister, throwing herself inside the house. Katie called for her and advanced towards the house herself, but not before throwing a glance behind her at Zig. The boy had already turned and was walking briskly down their driveway, hands shoved into his pockets and his face hidden.

Maya stood frozen in the center of her house. Her hands pressed against either side of her head as she held it, trying to steady the chaos in the world around her.

Katie appeared behind her in seconds. "Maya, what's happening with you?"

"What?" Maya seethed and turned quickly. She dropped her hands from her face.

"In your head, Maya," Katie pressed. "What's going on?"

"I'm grieving," Maya snapped, placing bitter emphasis on the word. She knew that fighting with Katie wasn't going to redeem her at this point, but there was something so deep inside of Maya that she didn't know what else to do.

Katie stared at her. She drew in a deep breath before speaking, "Maya, I want you to be okay, but this isn't how you _do _that."

"You wanted me to show something, Katie! You wanted me to have emotions!" Maya lifted her hands in a thrusting motion as though to physically offer Katie her anger. "Here it is, hope you enjoy it!"

"I want you to _feel_ something, Maya! Not blame everybody else!"

"I'm not blaming everybody! Just Zigmund."

Katie gritted her teeth. "What Cam did isn't Zig's fault."

"You hate him."

"I don't _hate_ him," Katie shot back. "He screwed up your friendship with Tori, and yeah, he's obviously a douche. But what Cam did is nobody's _fault_, Maya."

"It's his fault."

"Zig–"

"No, Cam! It's his fault! It's Cam's _fault_!" Maya was shouting. Her body moved with each aggrieved word.

There was a moment where Katie was silent. She was genuinely speechless. The older girl stared at her young sister, unable to offer any words immediately. She stood at a loss for several long moments, the only sound in between them the noises that Maya made as she breathed heavily and tried to regain her composure.

"Cam was sick, Maya. You can't blame him for that."

"He could have gotten help."

"He was _really_ sick, Maya."

"I could have _helped_ him!" shouted Maya, clenched fists now at her side. She felt a weight on her chest, an emotion she couldn't identify pressing down on her so hard that she physically winced.

Katie struggled to find words again, but when she finally opened her mouth, Maya was already talking.

"Fine, Katie, fine. It's not Zig's fault, it's not Cam's fault."

More silence.

"So that's it. It's _my _fault."

Katie gasped for air at Maya's words as though she'd just been punched. Her eyes widened, but Maya was already sprinting up the stairs.

Maya felt her legs growing weak as she reached her doorway. She pushed herself inside and struggled for breath on her own. Her mouth grew dry as she shifted her weight, staring blankly around her room. From the corner of her eye she saw Katie's figure appear in the frame of the door, but her eyes still searched for something she wasn't even aware of. Her eyes flitted from empty space to empty space.

So much empty space. So much room for Cam to _not be there_.

She finally realized the source of the pain weighing down on her chest. It was guilt.

Maya turned around suddenly and faced her sister. Katie had stepped forward and was looking on with eyes full of pity. Her arms rested at her side, but they hovered cautiously as though ready to throw her arms around Maya when the young girl burst into tears – because that's what Katie expected. But Maya remained composed, or at least more composed than she had been downstairs and outside with Zig.

The frail, breathless blonde offered only eight words. "I need you to take me to Cam."

* * *

**author's note: **In my defense, I said it would be the _beginning_ of Camaya, but honestly next chapter will have them actually together! We're definitely in a Cam/Maya/Cam pattern here, so keep that in mind as we go on. I don't know if any of you are confused, but we're still in the week that Cam made the suicide attempt. The attempt was Tuesday, and last chapter was Friday for Cam, just like this chapter is Maya's Friday. I have an idea for a new Camaya story that I'm so excited about, but I don't know that I'll start it until I'm done with this one. I'm considering posting a prologue for it, I don't know. Anyway, to anyone who follows or favorites, I love you! To anyone who reviews as well, I love you most! I already wrote the next chapter, partially because the two coincide and also because finals are coming up, so I didn't want you guys to wait forever for an update in the future. I'll post the next chapter in a week or so, or when we reach 50 reviews, whichever comes first! :P


	7. Three Days

**Chapter Six: **_Now we're torn, torn, torn apart – there's nothing we can do._

"Dallas?" Cam struggled to speak his name.

The hockey captain stepped forward as though coming towards his own execution, his body language signaling his discomfort with each small movement. He held a pile of books and a red bandana in his hand – the bandana that represented their teams for Spirit Week. Cam's eyes dropped to the flash of bright color. He struggled to take a breath, remembering his own bandana around his neck that day... He remembered the way it looked against the blood on his arms, the blood on the ground. Cam didn't remember what had happened to the bandana, whether they had removed it in the emergency room with the rest of his clothing or if he'd torn it from his neck in the green house while he bled out.

Cam slowly felt himself slip out from his daze. He looked up to meet Dallas's eyes. To the surprise of Cam, Dallas dropped his stare as though embarrassed. The older boy appeared disgruntled, upset. Cam stared through the empty space between them, confused by the awkward silence that had once been filled with Dallas, unabashed and screaming his frustration for Cam in the Degrassi halls.

The blonde doctor had risen to her feet. She shifted her gaze calmly between Cam and his new visitor. "I'll leave you two alone," she said with a brief smile, and then she was gone.

Cam and Dallas stood in a strange parallel. The white walls around them seemed to fall in, suffocating them further. Cam held his eyes on Dallas as he waited for the fog to lift from the room and open his eyes to what was about to happen. Dallas, on the other hand, stared at the white tiled floor. His jaw was clenched so tightly that the veins in his neck were visible as they pulsed. Cam stared at him, pursing his lips and becoming more bemused as the moments passed. The silence between them was unsettling.

He couldn't remember a time when Dallas had nothing to say. From cheering in the stands or hollering on the ice, to yelling with clenched fists when someone had displeased him, Dallas always had something to interject – especially to Cam. If his captain was anything, it was loud.

But a question remained. Was Dallas still his captain? Was he even still on the team? Was he even apart of anything anymore? Cam had started out feeling like he would cease to exist in the outside world, but the more people he saw, the more he doubted that.

Dallas finally looked up. Even then, he only glanced at the center of Cam's chest. Cam eyed him, nervous about the thoughts in Dallas's head and terrified of the words he knew would eventually come out. That had to be what it was; Dallas was searching for the words to chastise his young counterpart for his selfishness, and when they came, Cam knew he would deserve them.

He waited, but there was nothing. There was nothing after three days, and nothing within those three dayas.

Cam searched the apprehension in Dallas's face. When he caught sight of his dark eyes, Cam saw something he hadn't noticed before, something in those eyes he couldn't make out.

When Dallas spoke at last, it caught Cam off guard. "I don't know if you need these, but I… uh, brought them to you." Dallas held up the books in his hand and then slowly set them on the cushioned bench beside the door, glancing at Cam as though offering a white flag. He recoiled after setting them down and fingered the bandana in his hand. "Hastings offered to bring them, but I, uh…" He cleared his throat.

Cam furrowed his eyebrows. He watched Dallas fumble his words as he mentioned the Ice Hounds' second coach, and his confusion deepened. He'd never heard Dallas struggle with words, not even when talking to girls. Dallas was never awkward with his words. It was an attribute Cam had always envied in the older boy, and it was for that reason that Cam felt dumbfounded to watch Dallas so unnerved.

"I just thought I should bring them," Dallas continued. "I thought I should come see you." He stopped and lifted his head for the first time since he'd entered the room.

"I'm alright." Cam knew Dallas hadn't asked, but the words had become a reflex.

Dallas stared. "No, Cam… You're not."

Cam felt his face contort. He ducked his head and waited for the scolding to begin, but when he heard nothing, he looked back up and found Dallas still staring in silence. Cam could have sworn that he saw moisture filling up in the corners of his eyes, but he couldn't understand why.

"I'm sorry, Cam." As Dallas spoke, his voice faltered. His lower lip trembled. "I'm so sorry."

Cam felt his chest jump. He shook his head as though shaking off the words, then wrinkled his forehead as he looked questionably at Dallas. "You're here to _apologize_?"

"Yeah," Dallas managed. He was looking up at Cam from under his eyelashes, his head tilted far down. Cam finally recognized the unidentified emotion as shame, but that only perplexed him further.

Cam swallowed back his confusion, stuttering, "I, uh… What are you apologizing for?"

"I wasn't there for you. None of us were."

Cam scoffed. "I never asked you to be." He felt his stomach churning as he spoke. He hadn't asked any of the hockey players to support him outside of the game, but that didn't mean he didn't want it. That's all he had wanted, but instead he'd been met by practical jokes and teasing. It was because they liked him, Dallas said, but he'd never found comfort in those words.

How was he supposed to find it in these words?

"Alright. You never asked, but I didn't have to treat you the way I did," Dallas pressed. There was an edge in his tone, something like desperation. "I should have supported you, even if that meant you not playing, but…" Dallas stopped himself and let out a flustered breath. He ran a hand over his face, struggling for words as Cam stared on. "Cam, I didn't–"

"Dallas, stop," Cam pleaded. He didn't want to deal with this, even though he didn't know what this was.

"Just let me talk," Dallas snapped back. He withdrew, identifying the anger in his voice. A wave of sadness washed over him and appeared on his face as he nervously eyed Cam.

Cam's body tensed. He averted his eyes, trying to ignore the look in Dallas's face – the face he made that signaled he thought his words would send Cam over the edge right there. Did Dallas expect him to jump out of the window? Because they were on the first floor, still in the emergency wing. He wasn't going to try and hang himself with any lose wires or drown himself in the shower like everyone seemed to think. He was _not_ some fragile child, but he knew Dallas was just the beginning. Cam had taken much harsher verbal assaults from Dallas before. Justin was even worse than Dallas when it came to making Cam feel two feet tall, and Cam cringed visibly at the memory of his older brother, a thought he had worked very hard to avoid these past few days.

The point remained. Cam couldn't handle everyone staring at him like he was breakable. It felt easier when no one knew how unstable he was.

When Dallas spoke again, his voice had softened. "I never wanted you to feel like this, Cam. I never wanted you to think you were alone, and I never thought that you would…" A new sadness filled the dark eyes set deep on the boy's face as he looked at Cam, words unspoken hanging in the air.

An inability to understand still plagued Cam. He was dumbfounded as he watched Dallas and listened to his words. Despite the clear meaning behind the words Dallas spoke, Cam didn't know what he was trying to say. He didn't know what his words meant, what he wanted them to do. What were the words meant to fix? Was Dallas trying to fix him? If that were the case, he was crazy. This wasn't about Dallas.

"I didn't know I had let you down until it was too late, Cam." It was after these words that the tears began to pour freely. They were slow at first, barely brimming over the edge of his eyes, but soon Dallas had tears rushing down his face and dampening the front of his shirt.

Cam looked on at the tears in stunned silence. He had struggled to watch his mother cry during hockey games and at Justin's high school graduation – even in the past few days at his bed side. She had tried to hide it, but he could hear her sobs in the middle of the night when he pretended to sleep. When it came to his sister's tears, they were annoying but expected. She wasn't even nine yet. Maya's tears were similar to those of his mother; they discomforted him and broke him, but he had only witnessed Maya actually crying after the pageant. He didn't want to consider any other crying she had done.

And there were his own tears, too. Cam had come to despise his own tears, but they were frequent and often times didn't end until he had sobbed himself into a pained sleep.

_Quit crying where everyone can see you. It's embarrassing._

Cam could hear the words in his head, but as he stared in bewilderment at the tears in front of him, he realized that Dallas was no longer recognizable. Hateful words had been replaced with suppressed cries.

The discomfort grew in the pit of Cam's stomach. Watching his mother cry was nothing compared to the breakdown of what had been the strongest male figure in his life for the past few months. Cam swallowed hard as he racked his brain for something to do. There was no way he was going to physically comfort Dallas, because he knew that would further fuel the awkwardness behind their situation. But he knew he needed Dallas to stop, because his anxiety was mounting with his confusion.

"Dallas, come on," he said, already fumbling. "You don't have to this… Come on, dude." He added the last words in an attempt to make the situation less awkward, but it proved to do the opposite as he spoke uneasily.

"I'm not doing this because I think I have to," Dallas argued. He looked up through his tears, rubbing the back of his hand over his red eyes in an attempt to clear them. "I'm not doing this because Coach asked me to, or because I think it's my responsibility as your stupid captain." His voice was shaking through the sobs. It was uncertain and vulnerable, two things Cam had never witnessed Dallas be. He took an unsteady breath and tightened his mouth before continuing. Clenched fists rested at his side, the frustration inside mounting. "I'm doing this because it's right, and because I failed you, and because I want you to know that I didn't mean any of it, Cam."

Cam was speechless.

"I was wrong, Cam. I can't tell you how the rest of the team or how anybody else feels, and I don't even care about them, because I'm just _so_ _sorry_." Desperation had returned to his face. He held his hands out as he spoke as though physically begging for the forgiveness he sought.

If that's even what he wanted. Cam was still struggling to understand.

"You didn't let me down, Dallas," Cam objected, slowly shaking his head. There was desperation in his own voice, but his was different. It came from a different place. It came from wanting the conversation to end, from needing Dallas to stop talking about it. The more people spoke to him, the more real it became. He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted to keep everything inside again.

It was all out in the open, and he couldn't take it back.

"I did, Cam. And I'll always know that I did, even if you don't think so."

Cam stared at him a moment longer. He searched his face, wondering where this had all come from. Dallas had never been very broad in his emotions, but he was seeing something different in his elder that he couldn't grasp. It made him uncomfortable. Anything that was new or different made Cam uncomfortable, but this was worse.

There was some sort of hesitance and defiance he felt towards Dallas. He remembered crying to Dallas, _begging_ him to understand. How could he seek to make it better now?

"This isn't about what you did, Dallas. This is about what I did." Cam gestured to himself and turned around, moving away.

Dallas wavered. The tears had stopped, but his face was still wet. He sniffled, wiping the remaining dampness from his face wearily. "You're right." He looked down.

Cam realized Dallas was blaming himself, and for the first time he felt like his presence meant something to the world. He wasn't sure if this new kindness came from Dallas sincerely caring or just from his guilt, but he felt like he wanted to believe it was something more. He knew his family loved him, but didn't all families love each other? Cam had never been able to tell the difference between a responsibility and something that was actually genuine.

Despite his better judgment, he found himself pleased towards the guilt Dallas felt. It was quickly replaced by remorse for feeling that way. He knew this wasn't about Dallas or the team's anger. It ran a lot deeper than hockey.

"There's probably nothing you could have done," offered Cam with a sigh as he turned to face Dallas again. He didn't know if the words were true, because in the pit of his stomach he felt as though something would have been better than nothing. He really didn't want anyone else to suffer further from what he done though, so he digressed. He wandered closer to where Dallas stood, giving a small smirk as he gestured towards the books Dallas had brought. "Thanks for bringing those." He didn't bother mentioning that he probably wouldn't be worried about homework any time soon, or that one of the books wasn't even his.

Dallas offered his own smile. "No problem. Like I said, I thought I should come." He shuffled with his feet. He'd placed the bandana in his pocket already and had both hands hidden in the pockets as well.

"No one else has bothered to come," Cam added quietly.

"Yeah," agreed Dallas sadly. He gave a solemn nod. "I don't think anybody knows how to… deal with something like this. They pretend they do, but nobody really does, you know?"

_I don't even know how to deal with it, and I'm the one who did it._

"I definitely don't know how to handle it," laughed Dallas, joking about himself. "Crying and shit."

Cam laughed, almost whole-heartedly.

Silence fell once again between the two after that. There was less tension, but it still wasn't a comfortable silence. They exchanged a couple more curious glances before Dallas pulled his hands from his pockets and clapped softly, rubbing his hands together as he looked around hastily.

"I should probably go to practice," the older boy said. "I have to talk to Coach." He left it at that, not mentioning his outburst the day before. He didn't mention having not shown for practice the day before either. If Cam thought Dallas was out of character already, that would definitely seal the deal.

"Oh, yeah," Cam agreed. He bit into his lip. "I'm sorry I, uh, won't be there."

Dallas shook his head. "You never had to be there in the first place, Cam."

The words were simple, but they were the most comforting thing Cam had heard yet.

The two shuffled with their feet a few moments longer before Dallas stepped forward and reached out his hand. Cam returned the gesture, grasping his hand as the corner of his lip curled up in a small smirk. They tightened the grip before leaning into the half-hug, Dallas patting Cam's back. Cam noticed Dallas held the embrace longer than any other typical "bro hug" that had ever been exchanged before, but he didn't mind and therefor didn't mention anything. He simply returned the gesture and gave Dallas a final pat as they pulled back, and he walked towards the door.

"Dallas," Cam called.

The hockey captain looked back.

"You did let me down, Dallas. I guess everybody did, and I guess I never admitted that to myself before."

Dallas furrowed his eyebrows, questioning the purpose of Cam's words.

"But," Cam continued, "I let myself down too. And that's definitely not your fault."

A knowing smile broadened across the older boy's face. Dallas nodded in understanding before he turned and walked out of the room for good, disappearing past the observation window. Cam stood still for a moment, staring after Dallas's disappearing frame. Something relative to a resigned smile appeared on his lips before he sighed and moved closer to examine the books Dallas had delivered – including the one that he didn't even recognize. He picked it up and examined the front. It was a biology book, a class that sophomores weren't even involved in. He rolled his eyes.

"You don't like science?"

Cam jumped. He literally jumped. The book slipped from his hand and fell to the floor with a loud thud as he struggled to recover, looking quickly at the door where Lucy Reid stood. She smiled at him calmly and chuckled to herself like he was the funniest thing she'd seen.

He let out a deep huff and narrowed his eyes at her as he leaned down to pick up the book. "Not really. Especially when I have a book for a class I'm not in," he replied flatly. _And no idea where Dallas got it._

Her smile never wavered. "Biology is fun."

"You're a doctor."

"So?"

"So you're kind of biased, don't you think?"

Lucy shrugged. "I guess. Did you enjoy your visit?"

"I don't know. Which answer will keep you from asking me more questions?"

She raised a hand in defense, the other clutching her ever-present clipboard. Her eyes steadied on his face. "Your mom just finished signing paperwork for your stay on the psychiatric ward. Fourth floor," said the reposed doctor. "You'll be staying there for further treatment." She paused, and a twinkle entered her pupils. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Cam eyed her. "The nurses aren't very quiet when they talk. My mom isn't very quiet when she cries." He shrugged indifferently, although he was anything but indifferent.

_You're a psycho_. The words stung more on each remembrance, but he couldn't shake them – especially now that they were so relevant. Zig Novak was right, it seemed. He scowled internally at the name.

"It's better there than it is here."

"Doesn't it all mean the same thing?"

"Not necessarily." Lucy pointed to the observation window with her pen. "There's not one of those."

"They don't think I'll jump out the window?"

"The windows don't open."

"Can I shower by myself?" he asked, remembering the wards that had stood guard through all of his bathroom rituals in the past few days.

"More or less."

His arched an eyebrow, bemused.

"Come on." Lucy lowered the board from her chest and nodded towards the door. "We should start getting you moved now."

And when she said that, she wasn't kidding. It was late afternoon when she accompanied him to begin arrangements, but he hadn't actually settled into his new room until it was dark outside. He had sat through hours of separate tasks – from sitting in a conference to agree to comply with rules, to helping his mother move his bags of clothing from her rental car. He'd opened the luggage to find his clothes and belongings hurriedly shoved into each bag. It was all of his stuff that had come from the Clarksons, who he still had not seen. He didn't blame them, whether it was not wanting to invade his real family's privacy or simply being disheartened by what their billet son had done.

Cam dropped onto the bed in his new room. It was a small open space with a bed, a dresser, and a closet. There was a bathroom down the hall that he would share with the other crazies, which he found especially discomforting. This room was just as white as the emergency room where he had sat for three days, but the window in this room was bigger. It took up most of the outside wall. There was no cushioned bench for Mrs. Saunders to sleep in this room – not that she would have been allowed to even sleep on the floor. She had cupped his face and gazed at him with a forlorn expression. The sadness in his mother's eyes hadn't disappeared since she had first arrived, but it had become another painful routine Cam had come to accept in the hospital.

Exhausted and unsure what to do next, Cam leaned back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, which was also white. He stared for long, dragging moments, wondering how things had ended up like this. How had life gotten so out of control? It was hard to believe that he really felt better having bottled it all up for so long than he felt now while trying to deal with it. The single fluorescent light in the center of the room began to hurt his eyes, so he laid an arm across his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing. He didn't want to have a panic attack. He didn't want to know the name of his illness. He didn't even want to think about thinking about his panic attacks, because that much thinking led to that very thing.

A new pill had appeared in the paper cup that the nurse used to administer medications. It was slender and white. All of his other pills were white as well – whatever other uppers or downers they had him on. He'd been taking them for almost 72 hours and felt no different, but he didn't know if that comforted him or made him feel worse. It was nice not to have an IV in his arm or to hear the constant beeping of the machines that rested beside him. He was free in that sense, at least.

When Cam was no longer comfortable sprawled awkwardly on the length of his new twin bed, he lowered his arm from his eyes and shifted to lie on the bed the traditional way, but something caught his attention before he could even make a full movement.

Her blue eyes were steady on him as he faltered, stumbling to sit up on the bed and find his footing. His balance slipped beneath him as he struggled. The bedding slipped beneath him, and he almost fell to the floor in his clumsy scuffle to get off the bed and on his feet. When he managed to stand, Cam struggled further as he tried to breathe, letting out a flustered sigh of false serenity.

Maya was so still and impassive that her presence almost struck him as haunting. Her lips were taut, those blue eyes filled with nothing but a deep void. There was so much emotion in her small face, and yet there was nothing at all. It was empty and chilling, and her body was so still in movement that she looked like a solid statue.

The two held each other's stares as the moments collapsed around them. Cam was still gasping for breath quietly. He felt the heat spreading in his cheeks, but the more he examined her inexpressive state, the more he struggled to hide his flustered appearance. Both were silent.

She looked at him with wide eyes. The only part of her that moved was the soft flickering of her eyes over his body, as though she were unable to convince herself that she was really there.

"It felt like you were dead." Maya breathed the words. They were so quiet that they floated in the space between them like a feather, but the room was too quiet for them to be missed.

Cam's heart tightened. Everything inside twisted and contorted in the ugliest, most painful way, but he couldn't even be sure if it were the words themselves or just the sound of her voice that pierced him. The only movement he offered was the rise and fall of his chest, which was surprisingly stable. Three days. He hadn't seen her in three days. He hadn't heard her voice in three days. He hadn't felt her stare in three days…

"I knew that you weren't. But that's what it felt like." She looked at him with those eyes. Those wide, empty eyes.

Nothing came out. It was so loud in his head, but outwardly he was incapable of speaking. He feared that if he tried to open his mouth, he would lose all control and fall apart right there; maybe he would even cease to exist in the world at all.

Maya swallowed. Her gaze searched the room without actually pausing to look at anything. It was as though she was looking at each portion of emptiness between them. He watched her, studied her, and searched her for something that would give him strength. But there was nothing – from her thin lips to the curvature of her waist, everything had the opposite effect. His knees were weak.

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you." Maya spoke through clenched teeth. There was something different about her, something less innocent. She was so different after those three days. She had looked away by now, and it appeared as though she were talking to thin air. Maybe she was.

_You could never bother me_. That's what he wanted to say. Nothing.

She widened her mouth and shifted to look somewhere else. The longer he stared at the emptiness in her face, the more it hurt. He struggled to look away. He just wanted to look at her, to make sure she wouldn't leave him…

Even though he had tried to leave her. But he hadn't, he really hadn't. He wasn't trying to leave her, he was trying to set her free.

"Katie brought me," she explained, despite the lack of question. "_That_ was a fun conversation on the ride here." It was the same teasing that had always been a part of her character, but her words were so empty this time that no sincerity could be found. Her hands rested beside her small frame, and he watched as her fingers twitched during the wait for his reply.

There was nothing. There were no words. Maya had turned her body ever so slightly, and Cam's heart caught in his throat. She hadn't even moved an inch but he could already feel her leaving.

"Does she hate me even more now?" Those were his first words to her in three days. Whether or not he was referring to Katie or Maya herself, even he was unsure.

Maya had ceased all movement upon the first syllable of his words. She stared at him, the fate of their conversation and perhaps their lives resting in whatever she chose to say next.

She didn't say anything. Instead of moving away from him, she moved towards him and filled the physical space that disconnected them. And then her mouth was against his mouth, her lips pressed tightly on his as a hand gripped his shirt, clenching so tightly that he felt her nails brush against his skin as she tightened her hold. Her lips were soft against his own chapped mouth, and almost immediately he was responding by kissing her back, smashing their lips harder against each other as their mouths moved together. The tips of her fingers touched the top of his arm, and every inch of his skin caught on fire. He struggled to kiss her even harder, to keep her even closer. His hands moved up the length of her body until he found her hair and laced his fingers into the matted curls, the very bottom layer still damp. He could smell her hair as their lips intertwined, and the taste of her mouth was enough to make him collapse.

Cam lowered himself onto the bed. His hand remained on the back of her head as he moved, bringing him down with him. They parted for a split second before their lips found each other again, her mouth covering his. Her body rested uncertainly atop his, but he removed a hand from her hair long enough to pull her close enough to steady her on the bed, keeping her tightly in his hold. He felt her hand creep along the back of his neck, soft fingertips fiddling at the base of collarbone as she moved them.

They had never kissed like this. He had never kissed like this, and he imagined that she hadn't either. He had never felt someone so close to him, but all of his nerves were gone. He couldn't feel anything but the need to be close to her. That's what three days did to him. It changed him in that way, not because they weren't together, but because he thought that they would never be together again. It was exciting and unsettling all at once, but he was too enveloped by her taste to think. He just didn't want it to end.

But it did, because Maya chose for it to. Just as quickly as her mouth had collided with his, she separated their lips and withdrew to her feet, creating a new distance between them. Her hair was tussled and tangled. Part of it covered the top of her face. Her lips were swollen from their kiss, and he imagined his were the same. But those eyes – those eyes remained the same.

Suddenly her face fell. Her nose and forehead wrinkled as something new took over her face, a force of emotion that made Cam reconsider reaching out his hand for hers. It wouldn't matter, because she was too far. He realized that she had begun to back away, staring at him with that heavy stare as her back neared the door. He felt his pulse in the temples of his head, and it radiated all the way to his ankles. The closer she became to the door, the harder his stomach began to fall. He swallowed back the bitter pill of reality as he realized that she was retreating from him.

Maya was gone just as quickly as she had appeared. Cam purposefully dropped his saddening eyes before he could see her back. He didn't want to watch her leave him. He lifted a shaking hand and touched his mouth. It was still warm from the comfort of hers, but everything else felt cold. His heart was pounding loud enough to head its echo in the back of his head.

His entire body shuddered before the sobs broke out. There were no tears, just shakes and cries of sorrow that racked his body. He lowered his body and buried his face in his hands as he sobbed. Violent quivers throughout his entire being caused the bed itself to shake beneath him. The memory of her taste and of her smell was a constant tug at his heart, but he didn't know what else to do with the thoughts but to focus on them.

She had come back to him just to leave again, taking something angry inside with her. That's what three days had done to Maya.

* * *

**author's note: **Finally, right? Camaya gives me so many feelings. Sobs. Anyway, longest chapter yet! I have finals next week, then you'll get your next update. Things are just heating up. You'll be introduced to Justin, there will be more Dallas, Zig, etc. Thank you to everyone who reads!


	8. Passing Notes

**Chapter Seven:** _Tell her that I miss our little talks._

When Maya slammed her locker, it was like bugs scattering – the way cockroaches flee from the light when you lift the rock they're hiding under. Each pair of eyes that had been steadily focused on her the entire time she stood at her locker shifted away at the loud crash the crashing door of her locker made.

_Just a bunch of disgusting roaches. _

She gritted her teeth and leaned down to grab her cello. It was heavy, but there was already a weight holding her down. It was heavy on her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. She didn't know if it came from the inescapable stares or if it was still somewhere deep inside. She had tried to let it go; that's what she thought seeing Cam would do– _"Does she hate me even more now?"_ –but it only made the mass heavier, more crushing as it bore down on her. It only made her small frame feel weaker.

The students that surrounded her tried their best to pretend like they didn't notice her as she picked the cello up and walked away from her locker. They tried to act like they hadn't been staring at her when her back was turned, but she could still feel their hesitant glances. She felt the way they slowly craned their necks to look at her back as she passed them, and she felt the urgency with which they dropped their gaze when she flinched, threatening to catch them staring. Even as she turned the corner and began down a separate hallway with different people, she could still _feel_ it all. And it was all so much to feel.

She tried to hold her head high as she entered the music room. Each of her band mates was busy with their instruments while they talked to each other, and while all of them probably realized that someone had entered, it was Adam who actually noticed that it was _her_.

"Maya!" he exclaimed, sounding almost flustered. A look of stunned happiness took over his face as he smiled at her. Imogen and Mo looked up in unison. Mo's eyebrows shot to the ceiling as he stared at the small blonde, whereas Imogen just offered an excited laugh and stood with her mouth open.

"Oh– wow. " Mo blinked a couple time, but she couldn't decide if his surprise was pleasant or not. He shook his head and looked away from her as though to shake himself out of it. "Hey, uh, glad to have you back, Maya," he finally offered and kind of laughed to himself.

"Seriously. We were starting to wonder," added Adam with a grin.

Imogen nodded in agreement as both boys spoke, the same goofy and joyous expression on her face as she stared on at Maya.

"Thanks, guys," Maya said and shuffled slowly towards the group. She took her spot beside one of the tables and laid down her cello atop it, glancing over her shoulder at them as she spoke. "I'm sorry I wasn't here last week," she continued as she pulled her cello out of its case. The words came out easily as though rehearsed.

Mo shook his head again. "No, uh– don't apologize," he said, followed by the same awkward laugh.

Adam looked up from tuning his bass. "Yeah, we're just glad you're here now."

"Super glad!" chimed Imogen.

Maya smiled down at her instrument. It was the most genuine greeting she had received since what Campbell had done – what he had done to himself. The greeting wasn't without clumsiness, obviously, but Maya would choose blind acceptance and awkward laughs over hushed whispers and pitied stares any day, because the latter was all that she had been met with for the past week. She was starting to feel inhuman and caged, like an animal behind bars at a zoo. She was a car accident on the side of the road, and everyone had forgotten that there were real victims in the car; they just wanted to see the carnage.

It was nice to feel accepted again. She didn't care how uncomfortable the acceptance was.

She shrugged to herself and removed her cello out of the case, cradling its neck in one hand and the bow in the other as she pivoted on her heel to face the group. As she did so, the feeling of acceptance and relief became one that was short-lived. She turned in time to see Mo and Adam looking at each other questionably, staring and making gestures as though to say they didn't know what to do.

The blonde felt her shoulders drop as a wave of dread washed over her. Her cheeks flushed, the heat spreading throughout her body. A rush of embarrassment formed in the pit of her stomach. She was a complete idiot for expecting anything to be normal. The members of her band were just as weary of her as anyone else; they were just better at concealing their discomfort with happiness.

Imogen's voice caught her off-guard. "Maya?" she asked, her voice seeming tentative.

Maya tore her stare from Adam and Mo, finding Imogen with her gaze. The brunette fingered the tambourine in her hands as she kneaded it over in her grasp. It dawned on Maya for the first time that the girl who had pursuing Mike Dallas in the halls with his hockey coach last week was Imogen's girlfriend. She had seen the two together – seen them kiss. But now Imogen's dark eyes were steady on Maya instead of her girlfriend, and Maya realized that Imogen must have had something.

"Do you want to, um, hear the new stuff we came up?" Imogen nodded her head as she repeated herself. Her lips twitched as though she wanted to smile but was hesitant.

"I wrote most of it," Mo said from behind her. "Pretty badass, I gotta admit."

Adam rolled his eyes as he swung the strap of his bass over his head. "We worked on all of it _together_," he argued, giving Mo a look of bemusement.

Mo shrugged as he took his place at his keyboard.

"You guys have still been writing?" The words came out mousy, fragile.

Three pairs of eyes found her. There was a moment where the room was completely still as they stared at her, all of them appearing taken aback by the break in her voice. Maya stared back at them. She searched each of their faces one by one. She felt the rise and fall of her chest cease as she shifted from one pair of eyes to the other, unable to hear the sound of her own strained breath any longer.

Maya clenched her hands into tiny fists at her sides. Somehow the realization that life was still going on without her was more than she could handle. Her entire world had stopped, so why hadn't theirs?

"You don't have to worry about the new stuff right now," Mo said. He spoke quickly, the words falling over each other.

"Yeah," Adam agreed quickly. "The new stuff doesn't sound that great yet." His forehead wrinkled as he arched an eyebrow at her. "I bet you can help us make it better."

Maya bit the inside of her cheek. She took a cautious step towards the group, suddenly unsure if she still fit there. She spaced out as she tried to remind herself that her problems weren't the center of the word – it's not like she wanted them to be. She just didn't want to get left behind over something that _he_ had done. When she brought herself back to reality, Imogen was speaking again.

"Fions said she totally thinks we have a good chance to play at prom!" The petite brunette was wiggling around as she spoke.

"Prom?" Maya mumbled. That flustered feeling was returning. How much had she really missed?

"I guess we should figure out a set list if Simpson agrees." Mo leaned down and began to fumble with his backpack's zipper.

"Maya should sing like she did at Battle of the Bands," said Adam. He reached his hand towards Maya and gave her a light pat on the shoulder.

Without missing a beat, Imogen snaked out her own hand and used the back of it to hit Adam's stomach. He recoiled and clutched the area she attacked, his eyes going wide as he began to ask what, but then he stopped and looked down. Maya saw all of this from her peripheral vision but didn't have to look up or acknowledge it. She was already thinking it before Imogen had even thought to touch him.

She had been singing to Cam that day.

Mo let out a sudden, "Got it!" He lifted a sheet of paper with a list of songs they had worked on and covered, and waved it around above his head, completely clueless.

Maya dropped onto her seat. She rested the bottom of her cello against her leg, trying to silence the part of her brain that was screaming at her, but she didn't know how to describe how she felt so she couldn't put a stop to it. She had spent a week desperately wishing for someone to treat her normally, to act like it had never happened. But the more she sat here and watched people's lives go on – people who meant something in her life – the more she ached.

All she could think about was Cam in that small, white room, but all she could see in front of her were three people unaffected by what could have been the end of his life. It _was _the end of her life as she knew it.

Imogen shook her tambourine. "Ready?" she asked while Mo took his place back behind the keyboard just as Adam was testing the strings on his guitar.

But before they could start, Maya opened her eyes for the time. She looked at the three people around her and realized there should have been four.

"Wait– where's Zig?"

Imogen slowly lowered her tambourine. "Um, he's not here?"

Mo paused, his hand hovering over the keys of his instrument. "He hasn't been here since, uh…"

The silence returned. Maya watched as the three of them exchanged hesitant stares. A new frustration formed in the pit of Maya's stomach until she finally threw her head back and groaned.

"Guys, come on! Just _talk_ to me!" she shouted. "I'm not the one who did it, okay? You can _talk to me_."

Adam exhaled as though he'd been holding his breath. "We haven't seen him since practice last Monday. It was the same last time we saw you, Maya. Before today, I guess." He shrugged.

"He didn't show up all week?"

"I know he was _here_," Imogen piped in. "At Degrassi, I mean. He just didn't come to practice."

"I was going to find him and give him a good bitching until I found out…" Mo trailed off. He swallowed, looking Maya in the eye. "You know, that fight he had with..."

"Cam," Maya mumbled. "His name is Cam." It was a joke for her to be rude about it. She hadn't wanted to speak his name either, but here she was, judging everyone else who didn't. "Zig was probably just goofing off with Damon." She dropped her face and looked in her lap. "It's not a big deal, guys."

Imogen lifted her hand, the bells on the tambourine chiming. "I, uh, saw him leave after last bell every day last week. He just kind of skated off by himself. He left that one kid and his other friends behind."

Maya stared into the blank space on top of her thighs. She was such a bitch. Zig felt just as miserable as anyone else – maybe almost as miserable as her from the guilt, but all she could do was blame him. She was blaming everyone around her.

"I need to go the bathroom," she mumbled, rising to her feet. She clumsily rested her cello against the chair before grabbing her bag and rushing past her band mates until she found herself out of the room and moving down the hall.

Her stare remained glued to the floor as she moved. Her head spun as she walked, her vision blurring, but there were no tears. Everything was so broken around her. Two of the people she cared most about were part of those broken things, and all she felt now was responsible.

_I'm sorry if I'm bothering you. _That's not what she wanted to say. She wanted to ask what he had done, why he had done, if she could have stopped him – if anything was ever going to be okay again.

That moment in her bedroom with Katie, all she wanted was to see Cam. She just needed to see him. She needed to know that it was real – she needed to feel it. She hadn't felt anything in so long until she saw him, but when she did, there was nothing she could say. Nothing that she had wanted to ask him would come out of her mouth. She couldn't will her body to do what she needed it to do. She was frozen, so she had done the one thing she knew she could do: she touched him. She kissed him, she tried to be close to him, to feel what she had felt before; that desperation to be with him.

But when she did, all she saw was red. So much red. Blood, ambulance lights, Katie's bloodshot eyes in the middle of the night when she told Maya what had happened.

That's why she had left him. The fear that this would never go away was too much.

Maya collided into something before she could stop herself. It jarred her back to reality. She jumped, her heart racing, and looked up to find the source. She found dark eyes staring down at her.

Zig held her by the shoulders; he must have grabbed onto them when she walked straight into him. He dropped his hands quickly as though realizing what he was doing. "Sorry," he muttered. After carefully examining her face a moment longer, he frowned. "Are you okay?"

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She wanted to tell him that she had seen Cam. She wanted to tell him how hard it had been, how awful she'd felt to leave, but it was like the hospital all over again. The words that she wanted to say wouldn't come out.

"Maya?" The look of concern of Zig's face deepened.

"I– I don't think so," she stuttered.

Zig took a step closer to her, moving towards her as though he were going to hug her – she could feel the heat coming off of his body. But instead Zig's eyes shot up to look past her.

"Uh, Maya?" asked a new voice behind her. "Am I interrupting?"

Maya craned her neck to find the source. It was Mike Dallas, letterman jacket and all. She stumbled as she twisted her body to face him, instinctively jumping back to distance herself from Zig, but the damage was already done. Dallas was shifting his stare between Zig and Maya like the duo had been throwing rocks at puppies when he arrived. She stared up at him breathlessly, her mouth dangling open in her confusion. The only contact she'd had with Dallas outside of Cam was the captain mocking her lack of matured cleavage, and she suspected he wasn't interested in referring to her as a "flat pancake" today.

Dallas narrowed his eyes. "Am I interrupting?" he repeated with more edge this time. "Or can I talk to you real quick?"

Maya felt disconcerted all of a sudden. "This is Zig– Zig is–" she fumbled and widened her eyes, looking back and forth between Zig and Dallas.

"The dude Cam punched," Dallas interrupted as he looked at the male niner. "And now I get why."

"What?" screeched Maya in one breathe while her chest began to tighten.

Zig straightened up behind her, pulling back as though he didn't understand what was happening. His features contorted in confusion as he stared back at Dallas.

"Whatever," the hockey captain said between clenched teeth.

"Dallas, it's none–"

"Whatever," repeated Dallas. "It's whatever, mini Matlin." He returned his gaze back to Maya as though dismissing Zig. "Can I talk to your or what?"

Maya struggled to speak through her bewilderment. She could only move her shoulders in a shrug and nod.

Dallas reached into the confinements of his jacket and pulled out an envelope. It was small and white. As he removed it from inside the jacket, Maya saw a flash of black ink scribbled across the front, but she couldn't make it out. Dallas held it between his fingers and lifted it level to Maya's face.

"This is for you."

"What… is it?"

Dallas sighed and turned the envelope around. Maya pulled her head back and blinked, trying to allow her eyes to adjust. The black ink slowly formed a word – a name, her name.

_Maya_ was written carefully in the center of the closed envelope. It was Cam's handwriting.

She swallowed back the lump in her throat, her eyes flickering back to look Dallas in the eye. "Where did you get that?"

Dallas shook his head. "Where do you think?" He paused. "Cam gave it to me. I went to see him every day this weekend." She didn't know if the words were meant to sting or not, but they did. The older boy kept looking past her at Zig, but the figure behind her wouldn't move. Dallas shook his head to signal his annoyance. "He gave this to me last night," Dallas continued. "Wanted me to make sure you got it and read it." He looked at her for a moment longer and then pushed his hand out farther. "Are you going to take it?"

Maya reached out and took the letter out of his hand. A chill shot down her spine at the thought of what might have been in the letter, but as she stared down at her name in Cam's writing, she couldn't bring herself to open it.

Dallas remained still. "Well?" Impatience was thick on his tongue.

"Don't you think this is kind if _personal_," she snapped.

"He isn't going anywhere either!" retorted Dallas, waving a hasty hand in Zig's direction. She could hear Zig scoff behind her. "Besides, didn't you hear me? He asked me to make sure you _read it_."

Maya rolled her eyes at the two and returned her attention to the letter. She ran her finger across her name as she moved to pull the lip open; it wasn't seal, simply tucked in. As her hand threatened to pull it open, she felt her body begin to tremble. The space around her became increasingly hot and she froze, looking up nervously at Dallas. He had grown silent as he watched her. When their eyes met, he seemed to soften as though accepting that this was scary for her.

That didn't stop him from continuing to glare past her at Zig, however, who had remained silent the entire time; but she could still feel his stare over her shoulder.

A shaky hand flipped the envelope over so that her name was out of view. She stared at the envelope, examining each bend; the corner of it was bent and the outer edges were wrinkled. She took in the whiteness of it. It was the same white as that room he was in, the sheets on the bed where she had found him – he looked almost dead right there, sprawled out and unmoving…

"What's going on?"

Maya jumped. She almost snapped her neck looking up to find Katie moving towards them. She groaned to herself, letting out a struggled breath. "God, what is with you people sneaking up on me?"

Dallas chuckled beside her, and Zig spoke behind her. "Hey, _you _ran into _me_."

Katie slowed her pace as she neared the odd trio. A small smirk played on her lips, although it was obviously out of bewilderment and probably amusement. "Um, sorry…?" Katie said, almost laughing. She looked at Dallas and Zig. She paused as her eyes found Zig, no doubt remembering how her little sister had attacked him. Out of the corner of her eye, Maya saw Zig drop his head. Katie finally came to stand in front of Maya, taking an awkward position beside Dallas. Maya had never heard the complete story of what happened between the two seniors before Katie had started dating Jake.

Dallas raised his hands in surrender before Katie could look at him again. "Just a messenger, man."

"A messenger of _what, _man?" Katie shot back, giving Dallas a heated sideways glance before focusing on Maya.

"It's nothing," Maya said quickly.

"Cam wrote her a note," Zig argued from behind, his voice surprisingly calm. Maya gritted her teeth and glared at him, to which he only shrugged.

"Did you read it?" Katie asked as her eyes softened.

"No." Maya pursed her lips and looked down.

Katie paused. She watched her sister for several moments before she spoke again. "Okay, well, if you want to talk about it when you do…" The older brunette looked between Dallas and Zig again. Her eyes steadied back on Maya. "Mom and Dad come back tonight, you know, so they want all of us to go out for dinner at Little Miss Steaks." She rested her hand on Maya's shoulder. "Are you up for that?"

Maya felt like she was getting dropped off by her dad at high school for the first time all over again. She was being babied the same way. She ran a hand along the back of her neck and shrugged Katie's hand off her shoulder, nodding.

Katie smirked. "Good deal, Chicken Little. We can stop at the house and change if you want."

"Yeah." Maya nodded. "I, uh, need to grab my cello and tell the band."

"I'll meet you on the steps in 15, okay?" She eyed Dallas and Zig one last time. "Later, guys," she mumbled as she laughed to herself and began to walk off.

Zig broke the awkward moment of silence that followed. "Guess I should go talk to the band, huh? Explain myself?"

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him for the first time in a week. "I think they get it," she said softly. Zig smiled back, but when he moved around her and started down the hall, he turned into the music room anyway.

Maya took a step to follow him, but Dallas placed a hand in front of her face. She drew back and glared up at him. "What?"

"God, the _letter_!" He waved his hands at her. "How many times am I going to say it? You gotta read it!"

He had barely finished his sentence when noise from down the hall caught their attention. They both looked up and saw a group of Ice Hounds. Owen Milligan was waving a hand towards Dallas, signaling him to come on. When Dallas didn't move fast enough, Owen cupped his mouth and began to shout. "Practice, dude! Come on!" A couple of the other hockey players joined in the calling, but Dallas just began to roll his eyes.

Maya looked at him with a smug smirk. "Looks like you need to go to, anyway."

But Dallas didn't look amused. "It's really important that you read it, Maya," he pressed. "I don't know what's in it, but… It's Cam, Maya. You have to read it."

She bit her lip. "Yeah. I get it. I'll read it," she said with a nod. He continued to look down at her, still refusing to move. "I swear!" Maya urged, almost laughing. That must have been enough to keep him content, because next she was watching as the captain jogged off towards his team down the hall. She watched the group until they disappeared through a pair of double doors.

Maya looked down, realizing the letter was clutched in her hand. She eased her grip. It had crumpled the envelope even more. She turned it back over and stared again at his writing.

_Maya_.

Her other hand returned the letter, tracing her name with her index finger. Her fingertips hovered over the lip of the envelope, but she couldn't bring herself to remove it from its place, gently tucked into itself. She stared at it for a moment longer before she dropped her bag off of her shoulder and pushed the letter inside, between stacks of books and school folders.

* * *

**author's note: **I'm so, so, SO sorry that this took forever! I had my finals and then an interim class that I didn't think to factor in. I'm back though! What do you think the letter says? What do you think Dallas thinks of Zig and Zaya? What do you think he'll tell Cam? Thank you for waiting and reading! xoxo


	9. Haunted

**Chapter Eight:** _And though the truth may vary…_

"Do I really have to do this?" Cam asked nervously as he stood in front of the hospital, waiting on his mother to arrive with her rental car.

His psychiatrist looked up from her chart – that same damn chart. "Yes," was all Lucy said.

Cam nodded and forced his hands into his hoodie pockets; he had refused to wear his Ice Hound jacket when his mother offered it to him, to which she frowned.

His question for Lucy was a lost cause, like he had assumed. He cleared his throat, giving in to the immediate silence that followed. It had been a week since he had been outside. It was strange how the direct sunlight seemed to hurt him somehow. He felt uncomfortable standing out in the open. No one was looking at him, not even Lucy, but he felt somehow revealed to the world. He'd spent so much time in that hospital – all weekend confined to the psychiatric ward. The bright and fast world of Toronto seemed like a foreign object to him. He hadn't had much of a say in this, though. Sadie wanted to have dinner with her son outside of a hospital, and Lucy did all she could to reassure them both that it would be good for him.

It had been exactly a week since he had tried to end everything, and now his mom wanted to take him out for dinner.

"There she is," Lucy chimed, breaking through Cam's clustered thoughts. He looked up at the sound of her voice in time to see his mother pulling up to the curb in a bright yellow Toyota Corolla. Cam began to shake his head. Did she really have to pick the most noticeable car possible? His mother came to a stop in front of the two. She leaned across the console and waved enthusiastically. Lucy returned the gesture. Her eyes remained on Sadie in the car as she began to grin. "Have fun," she said to Cam, and he almost laughed.

Sadie was like a ray of sunshine as she drove down the roads of Toronto. The soft buzz of the radio filled the car, but it wasn't loud enough to conceal Sadie's humming. She always hummed. As long as Cam could remember being in the car with his mother, she hummed to every song that came on the radio. He had almost forgotten the sound. It was the most joyous he had seen in his mother all week, mostly because she had either been crying or attempting to eat or whispering to Lucy like Cam didn't notice.

In the middle of a stoplight as she continued to hum, Cam happened to glance up and noticed his mother staring at him. He wrinkled his forehead as he raised an eyebrow at her, but she only smiled at him and returned to her eyes to the changing street light. The smile didn't completely reach her eyes.

Cam tightened his lips, trying to smile back or at least appear less anxious. He returned to staring straight ahead. He was counting the median lines. It hurt his eyes to watch them pass so quickly, but he was afraid that if he stopped, he would think of Maya. That was too much. Cam felt around in his pockets before remembering he didn't have his phone anymore. He hadn't seen it since the greenhouse, when he had sent his last message to her. He bit on the inside of his cheek and let his head fall against the seat. It was a Monday, so Dallas had gone to school and then hockey practice. Cam realized he hadn't even left a message to tell Dallas where he was in the case the captain came to visit again. He had been every day that weekend, starting with Friday night when he came to apologize. It was still hard for Cam to understand where the guilt was coming from, but it was nice to have someone to talk to that wasn't a doctor or his mother. Dallas had been genuine to him those last couple of days – even called Cam his friend before he left Saturday evening. That's why Cam had given him the letter on Sunday.

"Uh, what do you... What do I do if she won't take it?" Dallas had asked, staring down at the letter.

Cam had just shrugged in response.

Sadie stopped the car as Cam released his breath, unaware that he had been holding it. His head spun from the lack of oxygen. He blinked to allow his eyes to adjust to his surroundings. He realized they were parked in front of a familiar building. Cam struggled against his seat belt, leaning forward to get a better look at the restaurant. His throat tightened when he saw the sign: Little Miss Steaks.

"Campbell?" His mother's voice disrupted his immediate panic.

"What?" he blurted out. He hesitated before glancing over at her. When he realized she was staring at her, he leaned back, knowing that she must have been talking to him. "What?" he repeated, softer this time.

The older woman offered a gentle smile. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

Cam nodded.

"This will be good for us." Sadie reached out her hand, placing it over his. "It'll be good for you."

He nodded again, offering a less pleasing smile in return. He didn't mention that he thought she was wrong. His mother was either oblivious to his doubts or attempting to push them aside, because she simply widened her smile and closed the distance between them. She kissed his temple before killing the engine and stepping out of the car. In the moments before she reached his side of the car and opened his door, Cam tried to tell himself to push aside the nausea that threatened to ruin the dinner before it started.

_I have to do this for her. I have to do this for myself_. Even in his mind, the thought was unconvincing.

As Cam emerged from the vehicle and started towards the building, he noticed something off about his mother's actions. She was playing with a tissue in her hand and glancing back at him between every step she took towards the door. Each time she happened to see him looking at her, she would flash him a big smile. He bit hard into the side of his cheek. His anxiety to enter the restaurant was only accelerated by his mother's strange behavior. He could feel his stomach sinking in anticipation of whatever disaster was coming.

Sadie stopped abruptly in front of the door, turning her head to look at him. "Are you ready?"

Cam blinked. "Uh, yeah?" He wanted to mention that this was her idea, and it wasn't helping that she didn't seem sure of it herself. What had happened to the joyous humming?

He kept those thoughts to himself, choosing instead to pull his hood over his head as she pulled open the door – not that a hood would protect him from the possibility of someone recognizing him as _that_ kid. Dallas had been careful not to mention what anyone was saying about him, but Cam wasn't completely stupid; he knew that none of it could be good.

The entire place still smelled like barbeque and cleaning solution, just like he remembered. It felt like so long ago when he had been here with his teammates, with… her. Cam let out an uneasy breath as he followed his mother inside. His eyes shifted from table to table as though searching for someone he knew before they could spot him, but he didn't notice anyone from Degrassi.

Cam was so distracted by his paranoia that he walked straight into his mother. He recoiled as he snapped his head forward to look at her. His face withered in confusion as he stared at her. She was still in front of him, looking ahead at something Cam hadn't noticed yet. "Mom?" he asked. His hand moved out to reach for hers in his confusion, but before it reached its destination, his eyes had already found what she was looking at.

His voice caught in his throat. Cam dropped his hand, letting it crash into his side. The crowded restaurant became silent around them as he focused in on the object of his vision: his father.

Carson Saunders fumbled as he made eye contact with Cam, pushing his seat out and rising to his feet. He pulled his napkin out of his lap as he stood up and then hesitated to sat it down, his eyes momentarily dropping to the table as he did so. The father and son stared at each other for several long moments. Those moments were incredibly difficult for Cam as he tried to process the fact that his father was there, as well as the fact that he didn't know if he wanted him to be.

"Campbell, hey," his father finally said. He walked out from behind the table, bumping a chair in the process. Before Cam could react, an awkward pair of arms had encircled him. Carson squeezed his son, holding him longer than he had before. Cam raised a weary hand to pat the back of his dad's back. He didn't know how to respond to a hug he wasn't used to, especially under these circumstances.

"Hi, Dad," Cam mumbled as the hug broke. Cam dropped his head, and his father did the same. A moment of silence followed with Sadie staring on before Cam glanced back up. "What… are you doing here? I thought you were staying home with Abby and Parker?" he asked, looking between his parents.

"They're with my mom," Sadie interjected, relieving an anxious Carson.

"Grandma knows?"

Sadie's face fell. She glanced at her husband.

"Everyone knows, son," Cam's father said softly.

Cam swallowed back the lump in his throat. Heat spread through his body. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, spreading up to his face. He clenched his fists at his side. He remembered how proud his grandmother had been when she found out about his opportunity to join the Ice Hounds, but that image was shattered in his mind now. His chest felt heavy once again. The sound of his mother sighing took him out of his daze. He looked up in time to see her fleeing back moving to sit down at the table. Her face was ducked away, but he could still see the pained expression as she lowered herself into her seat.

Cam's father placed a hand on his back. "Come on, bud." Cam allowed himself to be pushed towards the table. He pulled out a seat between either of his parents. As he moved to sit down, his eyes found his mother's face. She was staring down at the menu, but her eyes weren't focused. She must have felt him staring because she looked up. Her lips curled into an unconvincing smile that made Cam's heart ache as he sunk into his seat.

His father returned to his place across from Sadie and scrabbled with the menu. "So," Carson said with a false sense of cheer. "What is everyone getting for dinner?"

Cam groaned, shaking his head. "Dad," he said in frustration.

"What?" Carson blinked.

Sadie looked down at her lap. "We're just trying to get into the normal swing of things, sweetheart."

"But nothing is normal," Cam snapped. He felt two pairs of concerned eyes on him immediately. He frowned and leaned back in his seat, regretting his choice to speak up. What had he expected? His father could barely handle heated discussions about hockey.

Cam turned his head in an attempt to find anything but his parents to focus on. His eyes flickered across the restaurant, still anxious about finding a face he knew. Despite not immediately seeing anyone, he still didn't feel comfortable relaxing. His gaze continued to trace the space around him until eventually it steadied on someone singing on the stage – karaoke. It was hardly the distraction he was looking for, but he was captivated despite his best efforts not to be. He didn't notice who was singing, what was being sung – he wasn't even paying attention to if there was more than one person.

All he could see was Maya on that stage, pulling him close behind her.

"Did I do something wrong?" Cam heard his father whisper to his mother, but he was in a trance. He was lost in something that happened months ago. He could see her face, feel her hand around his wrist as she dragged him onto the stage.

_Block everything out and just focus on me_.

He remembered because it was the first moment Cam remembered thinking he could love her.

It was all so real that he thought he could hear her – he could hear her...

"Zig–" Her voice. His name.

Cam became frantic, turning his head in every direction in an attempt to locate the origin of her voice. He _had_ heard her. She was there, but his eyes couldn't find her. He scrambled to his feet, searching every direction he could find. At this point his parents had stopped to stare at him, his mother's voice growing louder as she struggled to get his attention.

"Cam? Campbell?"

"What?" he said, but his eyes never stopped searching for Maya.

"Cam–"

Everything went silent, because he found her… with Zig. She was standing across the restaurant at the bar – where she had shown him her clovers – with her body facing, eyes steady on the boy in front of her. She still had her backpack over her shoulder like she had just arrived, but something had blocked her path. He didn't have to guess what it was. Her hair was perfect and curled as she ran her hand through it. Zig's hands moved quickly in front of her, his mouth moving equally as fast from the small view Cam had of his face. He could also see the edges of Zig's healing black eye. Through the crowd and noise, Cam could only hear so much as Maya's lips moved.

"Zig, I can't do this right now– it's too soon." She repeated herself. In the heat of her words, he read his name on her lips. "Cam–" He couldn't make anything else out.

Zig reached out his hand towards Maya. Cam watched as she flinched back, but all he could really _see_ was Zig's hand going around her waist as though to pull her to him. That was all it took for the room to start spinning, and suddenly Cam realized that his entire body was trembling.

Cam pushed his chair back further in an attempt to escape. His mother and father both jumped up in unison as Sadie demanded to know what was wrong. Cam shook his head. Beads of sweat gathered at the base of his neck. He tugged nervously on the collar of his sweatshirt, struggling to get past his chair in light of his weakening knees. For a minute, he thought he might pass out. Instead his legs went into overdrive as he made an abrupt break for the door. Carson Saunders jumped forward, trying to reach for his son, but Cam raised a hand to hit his father's hand away. His father reached for Cam's arm.

"I need to leave!" Cam shouted as he shoved his father. As he fell backwards, he realized he had collided with something, causing a loud crash. He whirled around in time to see a tray of spilled drinks. When his face found the carrier of the drinks, his throat went dry.

Marisol Lewis stared down at the spilled drinks with angry eyes. "Are you kid–" Her voice fell short when she looked up and found Cam's face. Her eyes widened in stunned horror.

Cam spun around, ignoring his mother's tearful stare as well as his father's demands for an explanation. He stared past them and found Maya, and to his disdain, she was staring back at him. Her mouth hung open as her eyes locked with his. He could see the strangled fear in her face. Not even a strand of her hair moved as she held her gaze fixed on him, staring daggers straight into soul. Zig had turned around as well, although it was unclear whether or not it was from the commotion or to follow Maya's blank stare. Either way, his face had become flustered and pale as though he'd seen a ghost.

But that's what Cam was, wasn't he? Dead or not, it didn't matter. He was just a ghost, haunting those that knew him.

Maya took a step forward all of a sudden. Cam's stare returned to her instantly, the small movement sending him into a near heat stroke. The base of his neck was distended with warmth, beads of sweat gathering and rolling down his body beneath his clothing. But just as quickly as she had moved, Maya became still again. He could see her widened pupils, even from across the room. There was nothing left of the girl with the bright cheeks and stuffed owl in hand as they sat together on her couch – not even the girl with the swollen lips and tangled hair who had kissed him in his room before.

The girl he remembered had become a ghost. He was the haunted one.

Campbell's eyes flickered across the restaurant. There were a multitude of eyes staring back at him, but he only found his returning to hers. She remained immobile, the spitting image of a porcelain doll with her fair skin and doe eyes. The image was enough to make his chest feel as though it were going to cave in. He had no idea how long he stood there staring at her, but when he turned to flee, the friend of Katie's who he had collided into – Marisol – was still standing there with her jaw dropped in disbelief. He stormed towards the doors, passing several on-lookers in the process. He lowered his head in shame as he pushed his way out of the restaurant, his parents close at his heels.

"Son, stop!" He heard his father shouting.

Cam came to an abrupt halt as he reached the sidewalk, but it was not because of his father's demands. He stood in front of Little Miss Steaks, pacing back and forth a few steps. He raised a hand to cover his mouth. His eyes were focused on the concrete where he walked, but his mind was trapped replaying the events that had just occurred until his entire being began to ache.

Had she even read the letter? Was that her response – to be with Zig? Was that her _choice_?

His parents emerged through the doors. When Carson reached a cautious hand out to his hand, Cam flinched away. He looked up and stared as though seeing his parents for the first time: Sadie's face was red with what was surely embarrassment, but her eyes were so sad. Carson balanced his hand in the air, still reaching for a withdrawing Campbell. Realizing what he had done, Cam's face fell.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking in between his parents.

A new figure appeared through the doors in a sudden rush. He looked up as his parents turned around. A strangled sound of distress came up from Cam's throat as he watched Maya breaking through the doors. She stopped when she found him, still hanging in the door. It fell back against her shoulder, but the only movement on her person was the rise and fall of her chest as she stared at him.

"Cam," Maya choked out, finally taking another step towards him.

But the young boy was too scared, too weak. He couldn't face this, not with the fresh seer of pain that recent events were causing him. He shook his head as he fought back tears, choosing to turn and flee from her once again. Maya took in a sharp breath, balking forward as she tried to reach him, but he was already gone and racing down the sidewalk.

"Cam!" his mother cried from behind him. "Campbell! _Campbell_!"

He continued to run, the cement hard beneath his feet as he moved on. His mother's cries still fresh behind him, he turned the corner in an attempt to escape further. He had let his head collapse into his hands, his vision obscured and limited to only the immediate ground beneath him, and it was for that reason that he had barely rounded the corner when he collided into a character much taller than him.

The sudden jarring caused him to recoil. Cam dropped his hands from his face and followed the length of his vision upward until he reached the eyes of the figure he had collided into; but when he found his collision's face, he wished he hadn't. He swallowed back the lump in his throat.

"What the hell are you doing?" Justin asked, staring down at Cam with the same bemused expression.

Cam barely had time to stutter out his confusion when the boys' father rounded the corner. Carson's chest heaved as he struggled to regain his breath from chasing his son, but he stopped abruptly at the view of his eldest. The father straightened his back as though he had stepped on pins and needles, looking at Justin forlornly.

The older boy raised an eyebrow, looking between his father and brother. Only a few seconds of silence filled the gap between the three men before Justin began to shake his head, raising a hand to rub the back of it as he steadied his stare back on Cam.

"Guess he's still losing his shit," Justin mumbled.

Cam clenched his jaw, his stare dejected as he looked back in the face of another ghost.

* * *

**author's note: **I started this earlier in the week, but I kept getting distracted! If you're wondering what Justin looks like, I always imagined him as Dylan O'Brien. I think he and Dylan Everett could totally pass as brothers, so that's who he is in my mind. Thank you so much for all the feedback last chapter! I appreciate each and every review! I put my tumblr URL on my page forever ago, but I don't think I ever mentioned it here? Anyway, it's there!


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